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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1329584
A piece I wrote some years ago.
There the cake sat;
Its three sponge shelves and
Two smooth creamy layers,
All very proud of each other.

The man and woman who made the cake,
Have come to decide its fate.
They squabble about the man's new knife
That will share the cake around the room.

The large knife cuts the cake
Into two, three, four and five.
The pieces are put on the tables,
Three on one, two on the other.

The cake pieces stay where they are
On the two tables,
Apart from one of the two pieces on the second table which,
Because of a topping couldn't stay there.

The pieces stay across the room from each other,
But they're not that far from their fellow slices,
So the pieces are never completely apart;
But they miss the complete cake:
Its three sponge shelves and
Two creamy layers are still
All very proud of each other.
© Copyright 2007 Alex Cruden (mrbungle26 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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