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The rigorous life of pie
Pitiful, fearful, deathful,
I know death lurks.
Ecstatic are the bakers— morphing and mashing me.
Punctures in my skin help me breathe my last breaths,
idolizing the life I used to live.
Excited smiles stare me down.
Pleading for my life,
inching closer and closer to the “sauna.”
Energy fills the room for my funeral.
Placing me on a crystal clear plate,
I understand what’s to come, the deadly sword slivers for my life.
Eyes glare graciously at me.
Poison flees the top of my cave,
I know death still lurks.
Evening strikes and my life is swallowed away in an instant.
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