Melt-in-your-mouth biscuits and apple butter
crafted from scratch
humble ingredients transformed
into manna fit for a queen
flour, lard, powdered milk, water
mixed, kneaded, shaped, fired, served
the ordinary
rose to the occasion
remedied need
warm delight filled emptiness
and now nourishes
the wonderful world of nostalgia
Grandma created remarkable from meager
plain and simple magic
To my heart:
There are people who try to find a way
To make other’s misery ruin their day
There are those who can’t be at fault
And they pass it along to those whom its not
Sometimes they’ll act like they’re in the right
Knowing full well that it probably might
Be something they themselves brought upon
Themselves or other loved one’s forgone
In the end they won’t be responsible for the blame
Or with it carry the untenable shame
Because to them they need to be perfect
Even making your loss to them worth it
But mark these words, I will share the truth
Take not their misery inducing proof
To heart, for it will scar if allowed
Giving credence to what they avowed
Instead know your worth, the sum of you
Beautiful, imperfect, and faulty too
That doesn’t mean you may have failed
Instead it means sometimes you sail
Through choppy waters and need to anchor your soul
Deep in the depths of your own self-worth to know
That words mean little when they’re flippantly tossed
In attempts to deny one’s own faults
And blame is easy to scape on a goat
When confidence is low and easily smote
But I promise you this, and never forget
You are perfect in this asset
Take your pride, keep it whole
Take your worth, its more than you know
Take your self and always believe
In yourself so that you can see
When others try to steal your joy
They will fail at their silly ploy
Because you know you are better than that
If you keep this as your caveat.
