Pastry (an acrostic poem)

Image: i2.wp.com/completelydelicious.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/02/yeast-raised-doughnuts-6.jpg

Perfect doughnuts penetrated my persnickety consciousness

All demanding my devotion to their deliciousness

So I complied, completely cashing out with my confections

Taking titillating bite after bite to toast my triumph

Realize that these rare respites from my diet restrictions

Yields too many yummy yeast infused carbs for my blood sugar

Diet (an acrostic poem)

Image: health.harvard.edu/media/content/images/DIET-made-of-sliced-vegetables-87883148(1).jpg

Don’t tell me what to eat.

I listen to what my body needs.

Everything in there is a well-oiled machine.

That’s the reason I consume all the French fries I can.

Wheat (an acrostic poem)

Image: blog.generalmills.com/wp-content/uploads/Wheat-field-700×350.jpg

While being gluten free was not the lifestyle she wanted

Her choices were that or get sick as her body destroyed itself

Eventually she would get used to the changes in her diet

And find awesome alternatives to those things she loved to eat

The smell of fresh baked bread would always bring a tear to her eye