Of the same dough we belonged,
Got the same amount of sugar and flavor,
Went through all processes together
But sooner put in different moulds,
Of the same tray, thank God.
I kept moving up in bubbles to peek at her,
To see whether she was feeling as hot as me.
But soon the warmth felt good,
Knowing she was just beside,
Sooner we were packed into packets of six,
Being the seventh one, I belonged to another pack
But the god loving machine had a fault,
and I was pushed in her pack again.
She was happy that a kid would love the surprise.
Yet when our pack was opened,
The kid bit into her, rejoiced her taste
I couldn’t bear the pain anymore,
Wanted to be torn apart and mix with
her, lessen her pain.
But she was gone and I was dipped
In milk and I preferred dissolving there.