Kate just told me she “hid in a cupboard at work so I could eat a giant piece of cream-covered cake in total silence.” I assume she finds getting alone time with cake difficult.
Cake is sweet.
Cake doesn’t care about calories.
Cake see’s the beauty of my insides.
Cake always remembers my birthday.
Cake and I go way back.
But lately I get the feeling Cake is avoiding me.
All I want to do is sit quietly with Cake.
Gaze upon Cake’s voluptuous form.
Inhale Cake’s sweet scent.
Taste Cake’s delicate flavour.
But I always have to share Cake.
I try to steal Cake away, pulling Cake into the stationary cupboard.
Someone see’s us though, and our moment is cut short.
I watch the people stare lovingly at Cake, and I realise…
Cake is too to beautiful, too popular, too charming,
I will never have Cake to my own.