Chocolate tears

She wanted your Twix milk chocolate eyes to see caramel cones that can groan.
He was talking about the Malteasers that was shimmering the factory to floating butterflies.
So the melted dreams tasted like bunny rabbits on a summer's day, they hop they skip they jump.
Because it was their Easter time, and I wanted to hunt all of your Easter eggs in one basket.
Tears that feed your nourished bread crumbs, and I thought the pigeons were in love with Jaffa Cakes that rose like bosoms.
I swam into Cabury's bubble bath one time, and the tub had my heartfelt water running your clueless chimes like Winter days were walking into winter nights.
Now look, it's 7.30 in the morning, the hot burning sun giving odor bacteria the smelly morning, and their sweat reminds me of hot chocolate coco.
Your chocolate tears gives me the lumps, one or two lumps in fact.
I had headaches measuring my pain has heartache.
And no sugar is sweeter than your Apple cider, ringing your Adam's Apple like a yo you up and down up and down up and down up and down.
For crying out loud, my tears rang out to shed, who let the dogs out?
The agitated dog barks your missing bridges, I was chased by the glowing moon and the Big Ben called for a chocolate dip in the tea house of ceremonies.
I cried and I cried and I cried and I cried like the baby I was, in Butlin's Town, there was no jelly baby near to smother me up.
The tears melt on my tongue, and the bubbling Nesquick rushes in like Coco Pops was in town.
She never wanted the taste to turn sour, when two lovers combine Milky Bar and Hazel Nutella climaxes.
Ready to twist the nourished toffee plums of your so called cherished soul, so why dry those blueberry eyes?
Why sink so low with this coffee cup?
Why must you forget I was your number one fan?
I have sweated so bad so bad for your taste buds to clench my anger.
You can't see it melting from my wrappers, so my chocolate tears will sing for me when I cry this Kinder Surprise up loud.
She felt intrigued by my syllables anchoring home made Crunchy.
The caramel serpent sharing lust these days on apples that croak sesame seeds to bleed on its knees.
So we need your unconditional love to embrace, unpainted love to rub our tattooed tears of tasteless chocolate butter on our fingers.
It was sticky at first, then made the out come look so icky as tenacity had a miscarriage.
These tears won't stop being so empty, with no Sprite to split up the Coke on Foster's coaster.
Take a look at the young squinting his facial expression.
See the generations of untold sorrows lie in their pupils that hide in shades of true colours that display the black and white photography.
Let the chocolate tears be the recipe for crying souls unknown.
Let the teardrop from coated tears be the factory of semi-skinned milk cartons of the missing child.
Let each teardrop be the Starbucks of the syrup cup.
Let the remembrance be the resurrecting for shared out chocolate tears.