Spicy, robust, and red
Causing conflagration in my head
Without this sauce I’d be dead.

Some say love is all you need,
Others crave power to succeed,
But a slave to greed is ne’er freed.

But hot sauce is my soothing balm,
The one I turn to when needing calm.
It is to it I sing my psalms.

When my family doesn’t care,
That’s bottle’s always waiting there
Calling me close, drawing me near

Hot sauce isn’t one to judge,
What I do or whom I love.
He envelops me in sultry hugs.

When trouble comes my way,
I douse my food in this elixir.
The heat burns away the pain.
This sauce is my cure, my fixer.

-Azalea Anderson