The bread at the beginning of the loaf.
It's not perfect, it's kinda gross actually.
And the rest of the pieces are perfect. Fluffy. Beautiful.
The one left till the end is your saving  grace.
When you need some food it's there.
It's left till last.
Reached past.
Ignored.
But In the end you are grateful for it.
Just like we- the fucked up- are pushed past. Ignored.
Crushed.
Imperfect.
We are there.
We understand.
We hug you.
Comfort you.
Hold you.
So next time you push past that person or bread.
Remember it will be there when the rest are not.

For some peeps. Idk who you are. I think it was 4everAndAlwaysANerd and someone else. Idk.