Sometimes

Sometimes I don't understand the world. But then, sometimes the world doesn't understand me. Some things are said, some things are done, and I am left in a weary fog. I try to make sense of senseless things and I think my brain into a whirl with no place to go. I can't have my hand at every pot, making sure nothing boils over, that everything tastes good, and there is perfect harmony. Some things, some people, are going to get burned. I hate the way burned food tastes, and I hate that it has to happen, but it does happen. So i will be more careful, pay more attention, and I will make a better stew next time.