Ode to My Muffin

My dearest muffin, why haven't you left me yet?
Is it that you love me, or am I hard to forget?

We've been together for seven years you see.
And I am finding it hard to get rid of thee.

I cannot accept the fact that you over-indulge.
Not to mention your newly-established bulge.

You were so 'healthy' when we began our life.
Now I am vying for surgery. Where's the scalpel and knife?

I'm hiding behind a tightly-drawn belt.
And because of my Spanx, my legs are no longer felt.

You are causing great stares with the way you appear.
I've promised to end this by the end of the year.

No summer vacation. No bikini-clad photo.
Won't catch me bearing my soul. That's a huge No, No.

I've spilled lots of things. Like my soda and feelings.
But the way you overflow is hardly appealing.

I'm not expecting a baby. I know you know it's true.
Still some like to touch it, and ask, "When are you due?"

You've sized me up, literally, since my high school days.
I know I am a women, but tell me this is a phase.

I could crunch you. I could sit you up. I could do lots of things.
But all I really want to do is enjoy my buffalo wings.

I'm leaving you with this. Don't take it to heart.
Our time has come. I think we should part.

If you just went away, it would tickle me pink.
Muffin, Oh Muffin, I hate you. You stink!

Who is Muffin you asks?

(source)

THE CASE: Thinking surgery will actually make me happy
THE VERDICT: completely Not Guilty