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Baking

The sun is like a cookie.
At its start, it is not yet ready to go,
But soon it will rise at its heat.
It is crispy and lightly brown at the edges, the good part.
It grows slowly and puts a smile on every face,
The old and the young, the sick and the healthy,
Because everyone wants a small piece of that tiny sun.
That small yummy sun.
But it doesn’t last forever,
It will soon leave us all.
We eat up the tasty sun.



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