Dear Stomach,
I treat you like a wasteland,
Fill you up with trash and treasures
But you know what?
You never seem to grow,
Considering the fact that I burn the calories after.
You’re the only thing that seems to make me happy,
Happier than when trash day comes,
To fill up the wasteland.
Stomach, oh stomach you seem to hold a ton,
Cakes, cookies, veggies and then some.
My personal lunch sack,
My storage facility.
A shortage could not stand in the way
Of me and my trash.
A cheap price to pay and to receive,
A secret session with just my trash and me.
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