Outstretched neck; I spy
Confections left, lonesome
Must not eat; denied
Delicious, oily food
Please don’t make me sick again
Oh damn, it’s too late
Decay where I go
Trapped beneath the rotting flesh
Zounds! So spoke my fate
Here, stem in my hand
There should be grapes – where?
A rip-off, I say
Pumpkin spice delight
Offering to those who seek
Wholly generous
Orb quartet above
Eggs they say, but sweet eggs demure
Too far! Hear the cries
Too good to be true
Cookies, cupcakes please exist
No! All but a dream
Now ripe? Wait one sec
Pick now, lest they see the neck
Should flee – they will check
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