I'm a chore
Just a bore
you will always
Want for more

A cup of tea
When you need a glass
When given a choice
You will always pass

Take a bite
Then send me back
Because there always something
My taste will lack

I've never looked at mine
I guess
I settled
For being one
I left one hat
To jump in another
And they draw me
And put me back

I'm an option
Never a choice
Always the fish
You throw back
I'm fine with that
I guess being forced on people
Makes me ugly
Makes me a chore
And I try and make up for it
By being a *****