Having been given a cookie each,
They heard the lid settle into groove,
And the jar restored, out of reach,
They stood firm till ordered to move.
He inhaled the aroma, not the air,
It was stirring, as it had always been;
Then the cookie holding his stare,
Showed him something new, unseen.
A jag right across the baked face,
And crumbs fell with his every stride;
He didn't join the others in the race,
His cookie wouldn't survive the ride.
He could nibble up that cookie,
But, what if it were the last in the jar?
Boy, the trivial had got so tricky,
Why hadn't he ever worried thus far?
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