If I were a food
I suppose I'd be bitter sweet,
an outside of barley sugar,
an inside of rotting meat.
I pretend I am the sun,
playful, bright, and new,
by the nights end I'm done,
my skin a deathly hue.
I'll wither in the orchard
like those jewel bright fruits,
cut the tree, dig it up,
I'm dead to the root.

Hot Dark Mocha with Hazelnut
I wanted to say something but I forgot
I’ve done all my papers but wasn’t satisfied
Don’t look for me now; from myself I want to hide

Reviewed some of my notes
Sudden thought of sinking boats
Check the time, it is half after nine
Why does this coffee taste like a wine?

Recounting my pens, they’re seventeen
I drew a line, but it was so thin
An old friend came in, I said hi
After some while I also said goodbye

Been sitting for an hour, it’s already cold
What do you think will I be when I’m old?
Took the last sip
Caffeine makes me want to sleep

Seven feet away is a bin, it’s empty
Wow, an analogy of me
Empty and trash
Save me now; rush, hush… crash