P.W.


There were a few blokes from P.W. camp,
Who wanted a total body revamp,

To banish love handles and lose a big belly,
They shunned pints of lager and watching the telly.

Pounding the treadmill, pushing the weights,
Taking the ribs and the jibes of their mates,

To be an Adonis before their next leave,
Alas! They found the struggle to breathe.

The strains, the aches, the sweaty arse crack,
The cramps, the pulls and the fungally sack.

And at last, when they had all shed a tear,
They thought to themselves ‘fuck it!’ And went for a beer.

Perhaps some day they’ll all try once more,
To brave the perils beyond the gym door.

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