I ate ice cream in time gone by,
When weight was high.
To eat was living.
I dreamed that I would never diet.
I dreamed the scale would be forgiving.
Then I was young and not too bright,
And pants were made to be full-waisted.
There were no shirts that weren’t too tight,
And no dessert that went untasted.
Soon the tighter clothes wouldn’t fit.
And with a sound as loud as thunder,
My sweat pants... oh, they ripped apart,
And turned my job interview to shame.
I worked all summer on my weight.
I blogged about the endless wonder
Of putting less food on my plate,
And grew proud of each loss I’d claim.
And now ice cream, it comes to me,
But I can live my life without it.
There’re more important things, you see.
I will stay fit–I do not doubt it.
I have a dream my life will be,
So different from that hell I was living.
So different now from what it seemed,
Now that I don’t scream for ice cream.