The Cake

You make me feel like a cake.

One you found in the store, on display, among many other cakes,

And you chose me to take home with you--

that made me feel a sort of, special.

But, I did not realize that I would stay in your fridge, this new and unfamilair place, 

as you go on about your day an think of anything and everything,

except for cake.

And not until the sun goes down and the stars come out,

Not until it's dark,

not until there is nothing better to do, but have a slice of cake, will you remember me.

And for that short moment, you make me feel so delicious.

But deep down I know, that by tomorrow morning, I'll be lonely again because

No one eats cake for breakfast.