Comme L'Oignon

The base of every dish, you can't cook without her, so let her cook. A strong flavor raw and real.

Cut her, she'll make you cry. Stirring memories in with soup. The world wants her reflection, but she wants you to see her layers. A center so solid, the outside peeling.

She's fragile and temporary. She can sit in the bin and carmelize, or sizzle in a curry.

Don't drown her in your sorrows. Let her in loose soil, she'll give you all her medicine.