I’ve found in me a new disease:
A voice that tells me, “Give up, please.
You need to rest, you need a break,
To eat a slice of velvet cake,
To crunch your way through chicken fried.
It’s fine, you know? At least, you tried.”

I roll my eyes, say, “Nicest try!”
It simply smiles and winks a bye,
Until again the ghrelin drips
And shows me sizzling bacon strips.
“A day a week is not so bad.
Remember virtues Stoics had?
So, practice bit of Temperance.
You know what makes a ton of sense?
The middle path the Buddha taught.
A day a week is not a lot.”

I roll again my traitor eyes
And grab a fistful peanut fries.
The extra salt I do not mind.
I pat my tum, “Be kind. Be kind.”