I know that folding flour in

And heating ovens to one-eighty

Will chase away the fears and worries

All caught up in knotted necks

And hunched up shoulders screaming out in pain.

If I could bake and fill my nose

With cinnamon and chocolate drops,

If I could cover fingers in

A sticky dough to lick away,

Then life would feel a little sweet

With spice to make it fun again.

I’d cook away those throbbing aches,

Forgetting what it was that caused

Those fears I felt in heavy spades.