In its honey glaze,
Sits the end of days,
In a daze of haze,
Flaws the world razed.
Doughnut in the road,
And little toads,
Causing squashed into flat molds,
That’s the way it goes.
The doughnut that we hold so dear,
The doughnut sitting in our collective ear,
Will bring the sugar into our fear,
And make the ones we love shake and tear,
Into the flesh of good,
That we know,
Is the doughnut that will never be?
The way that was meant for me,
The sugar of the ancient law,
The unbridled lockjaw,
That comes with eating against the maw,
Of the doughnut hole,
Nice and raw.
Special thanks to: Melissa Potter
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