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.