Standing in the kitchen,
I thought to myself,

Each year since I was young,
my mom would make these cookies...
truly amazing cookies,
for Christmas, every year,

but over the years,
they never tasted as good
as they once did.
Over the years, they got worse...

and I couldn’t help but think,
nothing is as good,
as when its made with love.

Now as a reminder each year,
I chew, chasing a taste that,
once filled the innocent mouth,
of someone who didn’t notice

that moms cookies never tasted the same,
since she cheated on my dad.