Night Scavenger

She told me I could lose weight 

It was working nights that was my fate.

The  face stuffing was no cure to loneliness

And she was right.

Habits of  the midnight breakfast

Wandering to the fridge then

Grab a slice of cheese or two 

and on to a cupboard few.

And so the story goes, 

With each rise in my woes

I ate or drank to be merry

But alas the saddened thoughts do tary.

I vow now to sleep a little 

and when rising will not fiddle

With the gaping steel mouthed refrigerator

Or the blank faced cupboard doors. 

No, I will walk to the living room

That  breathes and seats 

and converses with others

Who in it do meet.

I will talk while I write 

And this will right the walk

To a slimmer me 

And my trimmer self.

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