Summary: A fictional wobbly kitchen table turns irritation into humor when a folded card steadies one leg. Its old scratches remain: a small useful fix, not a perfect makeover. No private or autobiographical event is asserted.

The kitchen table rocked beneath my tea;
One little leg was picking fights with me.
I dragged it left, then tried it by the door,
And wiped the tea that splashed across the floor.

One folded card can lend a hand;
This shaky table takes a stand.
No grand repair or brand-new wood;
A little less than perfect can be good.

I laughed to see the cup sit still at last;
The frown I'd worn was fading just as fast.
The wood still bore its scratches, dark and deep;
I found a fault I did not have to keep.

One folded card can lend a hand;
This shaky table takes a stand.
No grand repair or brand-new wood;
A little less than perfect can be good.