Cotton Candy

Gra pa! I ate cotton candy, it looked like a full-blossomed rose, but It has vanished without a trace in thin air. Have I eaten it at all? That was my grand daughter just four-year old. Looking at the ceiling, aged ninety, half-paralyzed in a stroke, that is what they call it in medical parlance, I lay fathomless. A cotton candy hung over me - idiots call it death. Come down candy, so I know you are a rose that never existed at all anywhere, other than in the forebodings of fools on an unfortunate globe that sold themselves to the idea of a beginning and an end.