Sugar and Me

Debuting in the greatest reality show in the universe,
I was bound by restrictions for better or for worse.
The dos and don’ts that were laid out were aplenty.
Some were stated clearly, and some, not so clearly.

But of all the conditions I was supposed to adhere,
none was as confounding as the one about sugar.
Yes, this two-faced ingredient is used in desserts.
With milk, flour, spices, fruits, and other cohorts.

It soon became a habit in a wee, gullible kid like me
as I found it to be so likable and so darn sweet.
“She’s a growing child,” all the people would say,
and I got away with the laddoos, candies, and cakes.

With Time, the law of cause and effect progressed,
and soon, my true blue friend was seen as a defect.
Yes, every bit I ate stayed on with me on my waist,
and it did not take a doctor to know I was overweight.

The do now metamorphosed into a major don’t
as this double-crossing thing upset my hormones.
The one that was delectable is now my enemy.
I need to break up with it both physically and mentally.

Well, the wheels of the reality show go on and on,
and I have with me now a new set of regulations.
Read this, my friends, and I hope you will be the wiser.
When it comes to eating sugar, it’s best to be a miser.

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