My love is a confection mixed with bitter herbs
Tubes of sour lemon icing, disguised in pink and blue
Milk white filling leaks from parted lips again
Half baked emotions don’t contain the recipe flavors
Glowing bright, my oven sits with vacant racks
The timer hasn’t yet called my attention
Yet unjust desserts are served to Gordon, Judy, and the rest
While the iced tops make it look appetizing
Cold, sour, and bitter argon colored undone tarts