You’d think when people made crackers,
They wouldn’t shatter,
But here we are,
Early hours of the morning,
Eating defective crackers,
With cheese, salsa, and laughter,
Cause these pseudo-chips are mocking me,
And the entire row keeps breaking,
But it’s okay,
Because even when things seem to fall apart,
We’re always there together,
Picking up the crumbs,
And making things better.
Part of a poem booklet I made for my friend's birthday.
