How clueless is the lasting taste of lemonade,
The Dining and drinking,
which takes us to a mindful point,
OF growing.
How easy is it to forget sugar?
The vast water in it,
Which deliver us, to the point of nonsense,
In which we find meaning.
The running and laughter of those days of summer,
In the age of flowers when we grew smaller,
—It is to truly live the age of miracles, ingenuity, and peace.
The flash moments when we see ourselves as nothing else,
in dreams of wonder and fairy tales.
How easy then, was to forget,
The damage and pains of other days,
into sweet lemonade, we remembered sugar,
The bites and sticky hands,
That made us see happiness.
