I was a chef when I was little
Best in the world.
The mud-pies I made for my imaginary friends
Always had the perfect consistency
And sometimes I would take
Little piles of worm dirt
I found on the ground
And use them as sprinkles...
But only on special occasions.
As I got older
My friends went away
And I can't recall whether
They left of their own free will
Or if I pushed them away
But they were gone regardless...
So I stopped making mud-pies.
I eat the food I make now
And I don't think
I'm that great of a chef anymore
But I like to think
My imaginary friends still do.