Sweetie

Not everyone is able to reach the top of the hill.
I did and still remember how it feels.

Up there I found a little place.
There were vanilla walls in a chocolate space.

The view showed wide fields of loly pops.
The air could be sucked in special drops.
The sky was made of sweet milk.
And when it rained, it was syrup.

I’ve been there several times.
I’ve realized the bitter we’ve got inside.
I’ve tasted the smoothest signs.
And decided I no longer want this life.
Although I miss all this pride.
The price is too damn high.