Ketchup (poem 50)
you dress up my hamburger,
you cheer up my chicken nuggets
you make my French fries line up to take a dip.
When I take you out of the fridge,
things are certainly looking up,
because you’re my lunch and dinner pick me up.
There’s no food that you mess up.
(Well, maybe ice cream,
but I’ve never tried that with ketchup.)
I’m going to ‘fess up:
I love you ketchup.
And if you ever ran away,
I’d try to catch up.