That buzzes every time that I am needed;
Sometimes my love is like a traffic cone:
Giving direction but, alas, unheeded.
Sometimes my love is asphalt in the sun
Forever burning in the summer heat;
Sometimes my love is like a Turkey Run:
Cold, up too early, and obsessed with meat.
Sometimes my love is like a subway train
Running on rails deep in the city's heart;
Sometimes my love is like a coffee stain:
A dirty remnant of an early start.
But though my love may vary day by day
Across these changes, still my love will stay.
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