A Shed

We treat ourselves like an old shed

One we don’t care for

One we feel too lazy, too much of a hassle to truly repair

We would rather fix the shed that doesn't belong to us

Because they seem more deserving than the rotten wood we’ve come accustomed to

Giving all the paint, new shingles, and love that we’ve convinced we don’t deserve

So let the other shed become brand new, as my own slowly crumbles to the ground