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I looked around the room, with a thought I couldn’t shake. These objects had weird texture, somehow they all seemed fake. I went to grab my knife, to ensure there’s no mistake My suspicions were confirmed, that everything was cake. I revealed this to my loved ones, when my mind began to break, They checked me in the hospital, I guess for my own sake. Yet in the room persisted, what gave me much heartache, This curse, it seems, has followed me, for everything was cake. I had to end it here, I’d had all that I could take, Late at night I found a knife, while I was yet awake. But my wrist gave no resistance, like a warm and still soft bake, To my horror I’d discovered, that I was always cake.