The Gym

I’m not one for the gym
Pumping iron and sweating so
Pressing weights that feel like lead
On machines lined up in rows

I can’t get my head around the bikes
That stay still on the spot
And those running machines, heaven forbid
They simply make me hot!

But the cross trainer, I do concur
Does as its name implies
For it makes me very “cross” indeed
As it never seems to tone my thighs!

But one thing I have noticed
Is an irony indeed
For we call the gym a leisure place
A place we chose to be

Yet when you see the punters
Getting fit and working out
They all look so very miserable
And sad without a doubt

For whilst they tone their bodies
And flex their physiques so
They forget their facial muscles
And their smiles just seem to go

So when you’re in the gym next
Forget about your hips
And instead apply a little effort
And smile by turning up your lips!

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