Potato

Sitting in the office,
With nothing left to do. 

You’re looking at me,
And I’m looking at you. 

I’m made of flesh, and
You’re formed from steel. 

But the magic we make
is so very real. 

Flights of fancy in my mind,
Dreams of crisper air. 

Oh the plans we have, 
To travel here and there. 

If only I seized the moment,
And went out on a ride. 

I’d now be cold and tired,
But feeling much more pride. 

Instead, I played a game
And wasted my precious time. 

No more excuses; this 
failure was all mine. 

Standing up, I acknowledge
my mistake. 

But have I learned my lesson,
About what’s at stake?

Next time I have the urge to roll,
I’ll learn just where I stand.

For now, I’ll do more work,
The cold steel in my hand.