Sometimes I am a fly swatter,

hitting them all, pushing them away,

"Get outta my sight!"

But then, I am a lamp in the dark,

searching desperately, and trying to find

any little moth interested in my light.

And then, I become superglue,

not letting go, keeping them close,

"Stay here with me, stay here with me."

Sometimes I become the metal detector,

searching for that one treasure I dropped,

that I am sure I have lost, but,

I don't give up.

When I am the oil in a pot of water,

that's when they come, when they want me.

But I don't want them so, I push them away.

Very rarely do I find another magnet,

just like me who has also been these things,

and is looking for the North,

and I am looking for the South.

But more often than not,

we are both South and push away,

and I am again the lamp in the dark,

and the fly swatter,

and the metal detector,

and the oil,

over and over,

and never in the right order.

How fickle.