Fear is like a box of Candy—
that was left on the side of the road.
In it holds the sweet and sour
with the screams and cries that shall devour.
You can’t be certain what you might behold
when the shivers come in many molds.
Because the Licorice is a vile thing
compared to the Lollipop that heavenly sings.
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The Chocolate that wallows in terror
is nothing compared to the Caramel
that feeds that tastes of Pepper.
Perhaps we have forgotten what riles the mind—
when the heart races and the thoughts aren’t kind.
All that is needed is a stick of Cotton Candy
To simmer down the expired Brandy.