A Wrinkle in Cake

His wrinkles glisten in the moon light
he snuck into the kitchen to steal a bite
the sweet cake sits on the table
ready but unwilling to satisfy his sweet tooth
it tries to move but its glued
not much places a cake can run to
with limbs so short their invisible
how can it get away
it has no choice but to stay
it waits and watches
as the old man touches
the cake knows it's time
to open up and give it up
the cake has no hope
no chance to struggle for survival
the poor cake lets the old man nibble
what choice does it have but to give a little
it's sweetness now corrupt and used
it's no good for the publics use
how will the cake go on
it's broken and torn
with no more goods inside