I made candy for you 

for we are yet to be friends. 

It wasn’t a doddle, but that day…

I went to the deepest woods to find wild ginseng,

I went to the steamy orchards to find citric lemon,

And I went to the verdant gardens to find green tea

I thought of how these tastes blended,

May array an unappealing flavor, 

but I still pulverized all ingredients,

sprinkled them on top of what would be my base. 

My genuine, authentic foundation: 

Sweet syrup relentlessly 

boiled in scorching fire, carefully 

poured into the grey silicon frame  

that shapes the features of who I am. 

The taste of the sprinkles is 

hard like a pebble, coarse as sandpaper,

lumpy like the sea, dark as the abyss,

bland as water, and hostile like your nemesis. 

Were you to peel off the skin,

it would be plainly lucid and serene, 

yet so sweet and candid, 

bluff and pleasant, 

mellow and rich. 

You can lean on it 

whenever you are drained, 

or depend on it 

as if a sturdy boulder.

I call it “Me Flavored candy,”

Please give it a try.