My Grandpa gave me a cookie jar,
I was never told to keep my hands afar,
One by one all of them were gone,
Stayed behind alone,
a Cookie with a broken heart!
For I made her part,
from all her fellows,
made from sugary chocolate of browns and yellows.
I recognized the emotion wasn’t that of pity,
Even though my mind wasn’t that witty.
Love, I think I had developed for her,
the thought was silly, made me stir.
Love, I think she developed for me,
she had the time, she was free.
I would talk to her for hours altogether,
I wasn’t harsh and she was like a feather.
Alas, our story couldn’t continue,
and things to share were never few.
This time, I as well was gone,
but this time it was I to stay alone.
The memory isn’t enough, the inspiration is,
To give me peace, and keep me in bliss.
I loved my Cookie that’s all I know,
could she have loved me, even though?