#1010941 added May 29, 2021 at 10:25am Restrictions: None
After the Fast
The hours go slowly at first
visions of future feasting
fill up the empty moments.
It’s a struggle to engage
the brain in reason.
Math counts only grams,
the macros are puzzles
each piece fitting perfectly.
Oh, why must it be a pie chart?
Suddenly, the wait is over.
The time of the replenishment
is short, must be seized
like one end of a wishbone
with desire and determination,
But,
I am no longer hungry
Promptly Poetry
Week 52
Write a poem about something that has ended
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