that So Cal
Don't you like Lemonade?
Would you stop flipping me?
I'm not some pancake.
And enough with the trampling:
There are prettier stepping stones.
You keep your cake and claim another's:
So sweet, its sickening.
In fact, if everybody was as sweet as you,
there'd be no diabetes.
Then again, what's life without sweet things?
(I remember a funeral home matching your scent.)
And so what if I'm small and yellow?
Maybe less sweet than sour?
It wasn't fair to squeeze once,
than drop me like life gave you lemons.
But its understandable;
friends don't match your tastes.