A Compromise
Sometimes he tries
To slim his size
But mostly sighs:
Weight on the rise.
Deferring fries,
And apple pies,
He never cries,
Nor does despise.
It’s no surprise
There’s no demise
In what he spies;
The arrow flies
To greater highs.
He does surmise
That it’s unwise
To demonize
Or criticize;
His will just dies.
A compromise!
And so he buys
A gallon size
Of ice cream: one
Instead of two.
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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