If I were a pie
I’d sit and sigh
And wish to be a cake.

If I were a cake
I’d sadly bake
And dream of fruity mousse.

If I were a mousse
I’d cut all loose
And go for chocolate pudding.

If I were a pudding
I’d turn to putting
Myself in cookie piles.

If I were such piles
I’d aim for the style
Of those crowning cakes.

But no matter how I bake
I don’t turn more desserty,
So I’ll have to eat and make
More of them a part of me.