I sat down with my pen,

Wondering what to write again.

Then it hit me, clear and large,

I thought about my charging charge.

I’m called a battery, you see,

But to stay alive, I need help, thankfully.

Sometimes I run out of power,

Not with a bang, but just go sour.

But there’s always someone there,

To bring me back, to show they care.

I’m like a phone, needing a boost,

Without my charger, I’m just a ghost.

Now people want me, think I’m great,

For the energy I give, it’s never too late.

But I don’t last forever, you see,

Even with different chargers, I need my key.

Different chargers may come and go,

But there’s one that I’ll always know.

My charger, steady, never fake,

With it, I feel whole, never forsake.

So, it’s my charger, forever in sight,

Bringing me back to life, shining bright.