Who is there at the start of the day?
It’s not that I don’t care who is present at the end,
But both truly matter to me.
If I’m scared,
Come and hold me.
If I’m tired,
Let me rest.
If I’m snappy,
Come and trim me; tell me that I’m incorrect.
It’s always hard to remember that other people have busy lives and important ties.
Not everyone can come at the drop of a hat.
I respect those that remind me of that.
But those that leave me guessing,
Well, you’ll see that I went offline in the midst of our chat.
Be there when you can,
Let me know when you can’t.
It’s okay, we’re adults.
I’m not trying to hurdle insults.
Sometimes we feel like a baked potato;
Out for too long,
Overly or underly dressed,
Feeling like a hot mess.
Other days we’re the wrongfully-hyped and entirely-saturated lump of mash potatoes.
Smooth and creamy,
Maybe lacking in depth,
But good enough to call satisfying.
On our best days we’re those gold and crispy fries,
That others want by the handful.
Some may call us rather too salty,
Others may say that we’re too greasy.
But, all in all, we’ve reached the peak of the moutain;
The top of the ladder.
Yet, nothing could make me sadder.
Let me be a hot mess if I want to,
A bitter lump if need be,
But never cage me into one category,
And surely never the basis of one word.
I am from the earth,
And I am interchangeable.
This is why I am so relatable.