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Poem

I had my blood drawn to find out.
If there were issues with some doubt.
My doctor said it's time to move.
Get off your ass, get in the groove.

Cut down on sweets, glucose is high.
I know it's hard, but you gotta try.
Type 2 diabetes is not much fun.
Don't make me get out my new (shot) gun.

So since the message has finally hit home.
I'm here to tell it in this poem.
I shared the news with my sweet sister.
And now on my foot is a blister.

You see she bought me a fitbit.
So now I no longer just sit.
It keeps me very motivated.
To get my steps and hips girated.

It's funny cuz it's very true.
Do as I say, not as I do.
She said don't eat after 7:00 at night.
But she confessed she had lost the fight.

She hunted for her daughters stash.
Then soon she found that candy cache.
Like a young school girl she indulged.
Until her aching stomach bulged.

But, I digress, we're only human.
You can only eat so much with cumin.
And the next day she made her goal.
God bless her heart, God bless her soul.

So now when we get on the scale.
Sometimes we lose, sometimes we fail.
Butt, ;) we both get tired of the botching.
Of all this weighting and this watching.

Note: This poem is brought to you by Andrea Dietrich's prodding me to write some more poems. :) <3 :)

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