Being Good With No Soul
I captured it in white foam
For its safe journey to my home
And to my abode
I rode
When I opened it only to spy
it look back at me with it's one glazed eye
With a sweet odor it gave no sign of fear
For it had no ear to hear
Of it's pending destruction.
It had no soul to carry on, in it's construction
After all, whether powder or glazed to promote it
It's only a doughnut
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