Cookies

If I could tell you all the things I feel,
and all the things I am,
We’d take off on a rocket ship
and visit Celestial lands.

But instead my mouth is filled with words
I do not understand;
My heart and mind and eyes and ears
with views that do not stand.

It isn’t that what you have to say
is something that’s not true,
It’s that all the things are meant for me
but you say they’re meant for you.

And so the sadness in my heart,
Like molasses in my soul,
When, once heated, dripping quickly
Drips slow into a bowl.

And when it’s done I pick it up
and stare into the black,
and wonder what would happen if I
got some honey from the back.

I’d pour it in until the dark
became an amber hue;
I’d take the mix and bake it up
and give it back to you.

And you’d eat, not sure what to say--
the flavor’s so unique--
And you’d ask me what it’s made of;
I’d say what you and I both think.