Two polarizing thoughts with a common theme, what better way to express it then with a poem?
Like a glove
Oh, precious blue jeans,
a glorious fit in size sixteens.
Hidden in a drawer for 7 years,
I zipped and buttoned with tears.
Flying above are white doves,
because those jeans fit like a glove.
Oh, old bad habit,
food will always be the culprit.
Out of control eating for years,
Losing control is my biggest fear.
What will happen when push comes to shove?
because those old habits fit like a glove.
Love It!
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