Marked and sampled worries,
Tang as sweet as berries,
Piled in dough of unhinged dred,
Tarts that I forcibly choose to carry.

Quite delicious sweet but sour,
Puckered lips and cringed face.
I wonder what others taste bitter,
Why then? For me it’s not the case.

My stomach turns and bubbles,
My eyes boil and pop.
My mind freezes and shatters,
I beg for more, I beg it to stop.

What a sweet taste it is,
This demonic pastry.
One which I have eaten against my will,
But of my own will, lately.

I need more, I need more,
Less, I need less.
I need to stay and contemplate,
Do I dare leave motiveless?

What to do? What to do?
Ask no more questions I must.
Eat no more, please no more,
Okay, maybe just the crust.

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