Lemons.
Gotta squeeze them ,
To make lemonade.

You roll them ,
Cut them.
They burn your eyes
And your wounds.

As you squeeze the
Juices out of them
They are planing their
Vendetta

Their juices sting you more.
Making you cry.
Collecting your tears and
Blood.

As the lemons drip
Your tears and blood
Slowly goes into the pitcher.

Adding sugar only makes it
Sweet pain~.