Is like your friends cupcakes from scratch.
You know the one that thinks they can cook?
It’s usually horrible,
Landing in garbages.
Yet you smile and say,’Nice try!’
Prompting yet another concoction.
With another feeble smile and sorry eyes,
Shaking a head for another go.
Baking upon baking,
Never quite right.
This one’s too sweet, ‘It was worth a shot!’
Far to rough, ‘I’m sure you can do better!’
Until you take a bite and
Demolish the pastry.
The thing with Fickle love is recipes never changed
Because Fickle love, is simply eating your own shame.
Alternate last line: Because Fickle love just means you don’t have a taste.