Fitness Beats Pandemic

Written on



When the COVID-19 bound the boy to his home
His only solace was his laptop and his phone.


The stats were his oxygen, the news was his tea,
Online classes, then videogames—no time was free.


Whenever he could, he'd lick all plates clean,
Until all the tasty food was nowhere to be seen.


Cookies, chips, wafers, muffins, pastries, and cakes
He ate and ate and ate the most liberal intakes.


Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and all his snack times,
He became fatter than Humpty Dumpty of the rhymes.


What once was called "tummy" was now a basket of flab
Skin dangling from arms, weak body, he became a fatty slab.


Then one day he woke up, made up his mind to work out,
He did push-ups, squats, and lunges, and ate healthy sprouts.


Healthy food, daily exercise and 8 hours of sleep,
He now boasts good memory and more knowledge to keep.


He’s now thankful that he broke his cycle of being lethargic,
Because he has realized that fitness beats pandemic.


Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

Comments

  1. Raashi 3 December 2020 at 19:12

    Fantastic poetry...I too tried making on this but truly yours is marvellous...srsly loved it

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. key3 December 2020 at 21:52

      Thank you so much yaar! Words like yours motivate me to write more and a become better writer ♥️

      Delete
    2. Raashi 8 December 2020 at 10:15

      😊😊

      Delete

Post a Comment

Tell me what you think!

This could be your next favourite post!

Sunset

Written on
via GIPHY It is 18:32. The sinking sun diffuses into the sky like orange candy on a tongue. The sun is slow, yet swift—it gracefully descends like a ballerina when you look at it, but plunges down like a dart plane when you look away. It is as if the sun feels your gaze and wants you to marvel at its glory as it puts its nightcap on. But you should know, the sun only takes a stroll around the world to light up some distant skies. When you see the sun swallowed by the horizon, you should know that it is swiftly climbing up the stairs of another sky in a far-off land you have never seen. Another girl will perch at her balcony at 18:32 to watch what you have just watched. And it will go on. via GIPHY I totally did not write purple prose there  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Did the excessive imagery enhance your reading experience, or was it a hindrance? Please tell me so that I can improve!
More

My Class

Written on
Image
  My class, V-E, is a zoo, With no concrete cells, But with ringing bells, And everyone shouting "shoo". Sometimes it's like a living hell, And in unison thirty voices yell, They run and shout like monkeys minus tails, You can't "shoo" them cuz you'll fail. Other times it's just like paradise, Seems like you won the roll of dice, They'll speak so polite and act so nice, You'll forget you've come to a pack of mice. Now that's my class, Sometimes they're good as angels, Sometimes bad as ghosts, Come here, and if you're lucky, I'll be your host. Photo by  Iqwan Alif  from  Pexels
More

❝The Shadows Are Her Spotlight❞

Written on
Image
She dances to the songs Of birds and trees. Not caring where her feet fall, Not caring who watches her, Not caring if she's being mocked. She dances in the shadows As the darkness holds her captive; The shadows are her spotlight. Her footsteps fall  On scattered dust. When the little black birds Will fly back to their homes By broken window ledges and vents, The cool breeze will blow the dust Into nothingness, Where her rhythm will lie forgotten. The dying roots of the trees  And the little cooing fledglings Won't remember her tomorrow. I don't know how she does it But when she dances, She dances like there's no tomorrow, Like she's frozen in her own Happily ever after. Photo by  Anthony Shkraba  from  Pexels
More