You are the saddle on the horse,

the noose of a rope.

You are the news anchor at the five o’clock news,

and the nested paper in the folder.

However, you are not the diamond star in the night sky,

the waterfall in the forest,

nor the smell of garlic bread.

And you are definitely not the sweet taste of a blueberry.

You are more like the birds from Finding Nemo,

and the barking dog at night.

However, you will never be

the ruler of the seven kingdoms.

For me, on the other hand,

I’m more of a spur with rowels than a saddle on a horse.

I am the script on the monitor for the five o’clock news

And the smell of Italian bread.

But I will never be the gem on a necklace.

That’s where you belong.

A green, shiny gem necklace

Around a neck of a hobo.