In pajamas, the bakers begin to create,
With giggles and munchies, they whisk with delight,
As cupcakes rise slowly, we ponder their fate.
The ingredients mixed in a cannabis state,
Flour clouds drifting—a fluffy, soft sight,
In pajamas, the bakers begin to create.
One dropped his ganache right onto his plate,
With sprinkles of laughter, they’re soaring like kites,
As cupcakes rise slowly, we ponder their fate.
They bake with a fervor, yet in a debate,
“Is it sugar or salt?” and “What’s wrong with this height?”
In pajamas, the bakers begin to create.
The judges, all giggling, can hardly correlate,
As frosting flows freely, it looks quite a sight,
As cupcakes rise slowly, we ponder their fate.
With edibles made, their award date is late,
For the laughs have outshone the pastries they write,
In pajamas, the bakers begin to create,
As cupcakes rise slowly, we ponder their fate.
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
