What You Really Are
You are the spaghetti and the meatballs
The mac and the cheese
You are the needle in the haystack
And the wheel in the wheelbarrow
You are the “J” in Jack
And the wing in the sparrow
However, you are not the pea to my pod
The gravy to my potatoes
Or the lemon to my ade
And you are certainly not perfection
There is just no way that you are perfection
It is possible that you are that disastrous hurricane
Maybe even the cause to my pain
But you are not even close
To being that shiny sparkle in the sky
And a quick look in the mirror will show
That you are neither those fish in the pond
Nor that dog in the house
It might interest you to know
Speaking of the plentiful imagery in the world
That I am that brightness of the sun
I also happen to be the tea in the cup
The gold in the pot
And the sandcastle
I am also the wallflower
And the tick to every hour
But don’t worry, I’m not the spaghetti and the meatballs
You are still the spaghetti and the meatballs
You will always be the spaghetti and the meatballs
Not to mention the mac and –somehow-the cheese