Ashes on My Plate

Hey, just a moment, I gotta speak

Something's wrong on this plate, it's Thursday

My steak’s been through the fire again

All I asked was medium rare, not blackened pain

I watch it sizzle, hear the cries

A plea for pink beneath the charred disguise

Time and again, I send it back

A ritual of hope, fading to black

It’s just a simple request I make

But my plate becomes a battlefield today

Yearning for tender, I’m left to lobby

Against the flames that burn my copy

Oh, why do you scorch what I need just right?

A love so rare, lost in the fight

My appetite, a broken song

Waiting for a chef who won’t do me wrong

Second chances, I plead in vain

Each time I hope, I feel the pain

A burnt-out love, a taste of sorrow

Dreams of perfect, no more borrowed

So I’ll send it back again tonight

Hoping someday you’ll get it right

Until then, I stand alone

With a medium-rare love, overcooked and gone