Cake

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The last queen of France before the French Revolution, you composed yourself with a dignity and grace that has long since been admired. A memory of the 14 year old girl forced into marriage far away from her home of edelweiss flowers.
i awake, ready to enter again into this poem called life. to filter the moments,  the quivering of water’s meniscus in a plastic bottle, how each person holds his pen differently,
I like to think I was born in the wrong era, I think sometimes it quite unfair, or, Stupid how nobody knows who Paul Simon is, Who’s Weezer? Cake? Beastie Boys?  
Who was it that hurt you  I wish I could make you ok Who made you feel you couldn't be    I wish you would shine like early may I wis these words wouldn't make you break Who was it that hurt you
I very much enjoy the first bite of cake. As I scrape the fork on my plate and smile I think to myself I might have to run an extra mile.  But I shrug it off because this pastry is good for my own sake.   
You know what? Icing is the best. It's a fact at this point. But what's left once you've scooped up the last of the heavenly cream? You know what. It's cake that's the best. Who doesn't love cake.
I am a funfetti cake. It sounds silly and may make me seem obesed with food. 
Electric in stone Cold is black
What if life was simplier?
Dream marvelously entered in an oven, I kept it moist. Dream, dream, dream, A delicious dream, Vivid cake full of fresh berries and fluffy cream. Dream, dream, dream, A sparkling dream,
I write because I feel like a half eaten cake That has made it’s way into the garbage A cake muddled with dirt and soaked In Sunday night’s leftover bacon grease A cake nostalgic about the pink frosted letters,
Frosty white tips on a cake Flow like waves in the ocean With our bodies wrapped, Enraptured in a white lake, drowning In the sun till our skin glows
Shall I compare thee to a birthday cake? Thou art more layered and more fattening: Harsh winds do force thy candles fire to shake, And birthday’s end does cause a happening:
Walking down the street, the scent Hit me, crawling its way up my nose, Triggering the memories of her, and The smell of the warm cake, followed By the longing beep from the oven.
Oh, how delicious A cake bakes tall and warmly The icing slides off.
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