Bitter Memories

A flash of the taste, that old, familiar bite,

a sip from the bottle, in childhood's dark night.

Syrup so sticky, with flavors so wrong,

it stings at the back, a medicinal song.

The smell of the pharmacy, swabs in the air,

sent me back spinning, in moments laid bare.

I remember the battles, each spoonful a fight,

a child’s face crinkled in the harsh, blaring light.

Yet, through all the bitterness, a strange sense of care,

for the hope that came with it, soft as a prayer.