The food I stock, my unseen guide,
A force that’s always by my side.
When cravings hit and moods swing wide,
My kitchen's truth helps me decide.

It’s not just choice or sheer intent—
It’s what’s in stock that does prevent.
My defaults calling all those tunes,
To guide those foods into my spoon.

 

No ice cream waits behind that door,
Just black rice, beans, and greens galore.
If impulse strikes at ten at night,
I’m zapping spuds, not chasing Sprite.

 

From frozen fruit with stevia drops,
The sweet tooth hums, and cravings stop.
A soy milk smoothie fills my bowl,
My body’s fine and so’s my soul.

 

I don’t forbid, I just parlay—
My laziness keeps junk away.
Those munchies so far out of reach;
I’ll just stay home and have a peach.

 

Tools and prep have paved my way—
So tasty that at home I’ll stay.
My Instant Pot and blender whirr,
There’s hardly anything to stir.

It’s not just choice or sheer intent—
It’s what’s in stock that does prevent.
My defaults calling all those tunes,
To guide those foods into my spoon.

 

Like real estate: location rules—
For health, my kitchen holds the tools.
Control that space, I’ve changed my fate—
With every plate, I celibrate.