I Don't Bake Cake

simple short poem that speaks to how we allow others to treat us

My mother told my father for over thirty odd years,
You can't have your cake and eat it too,
Yet he would wolf it down, both hands and mouth full,
And when my daddy was through,
She would cut him another slice, just as huge
And he would finish that one too,
Until slowly, but surely over time,
Both mama and that cake had been bitterly consumed,
And to this day, I don't bake cake.