Comfort in Flaws

I reach for the chipped plate, worn but still dear,

each meal brings a warmth that feels so near.

The rough edge speaks stories of dinners long gone,

while laughter and tears in each memory spawn.

It carries the weight of the times I've felt lost,

a reminder that comfort can sometimes come cost.

Each bite tells of failures, of feasts and of frights,

but I savor the flavors, embrace all the fights.

So here I dine, flaws and all,

for in every chip, I hear a call.