I burnt many turkeys in my days,
buy you didn't care you ate it anyways.
i cursed when I smoldered my meal and mouth,
you're response was not to shout in vain.
when the stumble gave way to tumble, I looked up on disgust.
You sat in fuss of my distrust for the burden was too mess up.
one dinner, one day of perfection dribbled from reach and I failed a new family.
the plates mismatched and one entree hot and one that was cold. Reminded me of stories of the days old, the golden locks of girl looking for respite was what I heard. All that I asked for a little bit of grace said across the table and each others face. You smiled when I frowned as looked at the display but you sweetness erased my disgrace. Dinner of yesterday is the same as today and tomorrow, all is not lost in this sorrow or regret from a picturesque tradition sold on the tv. We've filled the future with destiny of marching soldiers and warriors in flight but today was a short order for perfection within one night. Then you said I ordered this disorder to see what you got, if you put in your best effort than that meal is what I got. Burnt, turned or ruined the whole food of thought was not destroyed for the mashed potatoes were made, the mac had cheese that you grate, the vegetables stayed green and didn't wilt away, the mission was accomplished as two empty bellies was fueled okay. It wasn't impossible to make us come to stay.

FW:

Self + Discovery = Recovery