Strawberry laces and sour cola bottles,
Scattered around in a loquacious stance.
They talk; open and spill
concoctions of piquant jelly beans;
relinquishing them like bombshells.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Boom.

Their hidden flaws concealed
beneath a farce called personality.
Unique tangents. With their liquorice
hearts and strawberry faces,
it is a courteous impediment that
black holes don't allow light
to pass through.

Cola bottle tries to shun the pungent
sourness. Mixed in with mirth.
Strawberry laces burst with jealousy.
With sweets to be soured and
hearts to be rotten, a guise,
poses as the alternative.

Read the words, and curse the truth.
Hateful delights don't come
much bitter.
The difference of a lace to that
of a bottle, is the deception.
Sour faces, carious hearts,
through and through a liquorice
all sort.