Stuffed

Marking a certain time of year when runners can get a little carried away.

We’ve all done it. Gone overboard. Got carried away in the moment.

Especially at this time of year. Often, on this very day.

So here’s a short poem to mark the occasion.

Over-Indulgence

I’m stuffed to the gills.
Up to my chin.
At capacity.
Crammed.
Packed.
Squeezed.
Straining at the seams.
Certain I cannot take any more.

I’m telling you, there’s no room.
I don’t care if they weigh “barely 180g”.

Have some respect.
I’m a shoe rack, not a superhero.