How I was born I don’t know,
May or maynot be difficult though,
I remember being a soft dough,
Transferred to tray as I grow,
Just going with the flow.
They put me in the oven to bake,
Feeling bubbles of heat I wake,
Suddenly my body started to ache,
Realised I’m a deprived horrible cake,
Still won’t stop for my sake.
Opening the door, they scared me for my life,
At this point I don’t wanna die without a wife,
They kept poking me with that sharp knife,
I surely wanted to cause a strife,
But I promised to live a peaceable life.
Saw a cupcake twice the spicing,
I’m the cake but he has more icing!
I know I look cute and enticing,
Sugar-free and without icing,
But that doesn’t mean you try slicing.
Picking up he started licking my light cream,
I gave out a disgusted screme,
Seeing his teeth I wanted to slap his esteem,
Death was near proved his sparkling gleam,
Dying this way was never my dream!
-Ava Tripathy
Thanks for Reading😊.
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Avem 
SMiLes Dear Ava It’s True
CuLTuRE May
Mix Our
Recipes
And Bake Us
to Rise in More than
A Few Unwanted Ovens
of Strife However the
Good News Is
Cakes Will
Be Added
Frosting Never
Tasted Before Fresh
A New Recipe A Cover
of An Entire New Book
While the Rest of the
Pages of the
Cake
Are
Changing
To Suit the
New Us Just
An Entirely Different
Cake We Re-Bake as
Butterflies Escape Cocoons
Once Only Caterpillar Cakes
Cakes With Wings MaKinG A Sweeter Free Life..!..:)
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Great one!
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It’s not everyday that a blog makes me imagine a talking cake 😅
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What a beautiful poem!
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Very cute!!
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Great one!
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