Maybe it would relieve you to know

That I'm only in love with you

For seventeen minutes out of every day,

And the other twenty three hours

And forty-three minutes

Are just a dull roaring thud of affection.

And maybe you would breathe a bit easier,

If you didn't worry over which type

Of toast is greasier,

When you are the one putting the butter on it.

And maybe if bullfrogs had wings,

They wouldn't bump their bottoms 

Along in the mud on the way

To the next big catastrophe!

But alas! Alack! Oh! potato sack!

Maybe every bit of this is untrue 

And maybe I'm madly in love with you 24/7!

Maybe there's no hope for you, after all?

-jenn