I went to get a philly —
I take it plain, not frilly —
Just onions, pepper, meat and cheese:
Much more than that
Some swedish meatballs on a plate,
A bit of mashed potato —
To eat this stuff might not be wise,
So I guess I’m not
O cinnamon roll, I love you.
You’re good and pure and sweet —
The doctor says I shouldn’t, but
He’s not here when I eat.
I’m better off without you.
That’s what the doctor says —
But one of you is worth a thousand
Some kids will eat their broccoli
While others will not do it;
We just seem to be born that way
And that’s all there is
Hot chocolate to warm a Winter day,
Or take the edge off cold December nights:
A bit of peace and bliss outside the fray,
A moment with the simplest of delights —
The things we love because we know we do:
These grow with time, but shrink with reticence
To show our passions as they are, and true,
As though ashamed of our own innocence.
But what, then, do we really have to prove?
That we’re grown up, and so feign to despise
The things we really like, as if to move
Onlookers from the plain truth in our eyes?
But genuine is better, anyways:
Like good hot chocolate December days.