Cheesecake

The cheesecake 

That my mother used to make

Sits on the shelf

Gathering dust

Long since expired 

No taste is left

Just some cardboard layers

Preserved like in a museum

Behind a glass barrier

My memories on a display

With a little plaque beside it

Saying:

Here lies my childhood

I wish I could taste some

But it’s long since

Grown stale

If I had a time machine 

I would ask my mother 

To make it again

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