By Shaylynn Hewitt
The bottom of a cheesecake,
The crust of a key lime pie.
The bread that sandwiches a s’more,
An airplane that crosses the sky.
A pile of crushed up crumbs,
A dotted cracker you break into squares.
Shaped into the form of teddys,
Socks that don't come in pairs.
A hundred million uses,
A dry honey taste.
A carboardy texture,
And a perfectly cinched waist.
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