Poem: Rodney Pruitt.
Rodney Pruitt.
.
One day our Rodney made a vow
To get extremely fit,
Not just a whim or passing fad
A serious vow was it.
.
A Sunday evening was the time
He viewed his naked body,
The mirror showed a shocking sight
His bodywork was shoddy.
.
No coward he – He faced the truth
His body was his wealth,
Tomorrow morning was the time
To start his drive for health.
.
Armani tracksuit all laid out
His trainers were Nike Air,
Designer towel to drape his neck
A headband for his hair.
.
His dumbells, stopwatch, and his clock
Arranged upon the floor,
And half a pint of orange juice
Stood ready by the door.
.
Alarm – it’s four – wake up – get fit
the changes will begin,
New muscles, strength and sex appeal
As well as growing thin.
.
The newer, sleeker man he’ll be
Will make the ladies quiver.
Don’t hesitate, reduce the weight,
He knows it’s now or never.
.
One hundred push-ups is a start,
The leg-ups give him pain,
The chin-ups, sit-ups and the rope,
No suffering, no gain.
.
So flex the pectorals, do the squats
Then do it all once more,
Each time he does it harder
Than he did the time before.
.
At nine on Monday morning
See the fellow who’s gone through it.
He’s lean, he’s tight, he’s honed just right
A fitter Rodney Pruitt.
.
Still lying on his bedroom floor
And looking really tired,
He is not looking well at all,
In fact he’s just expired.
.
.
.
This poem is about an imaginary man, and bears no resemblance to any real person. Living…or dead!
