I belong on a table, In a garden, or where one path becomes two.

I hide where edges meet and wood is shaved ,A dip or groove, a pathway firmly paved. Take me away, and larger things will fit; Mark me in time, and I’m a moment lit .I never leave, yet absence is my space.

No use crying over this spilt drink Leave it out the fridge too long and it’ll create a stink.

Everyone wants one, but usually hate to go there... You spend more time there than at home

I was punished for helping my friends I lost my voice but in the end My love for a self centered man Was instrumental in my tragic end.