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The waste bin stirs
The bakery silent
In the streetlight gloom
Out it crawls
Crusted with hardened sugar
The bun reborn
A day old and hungry for companionship
Somehow it knows
Creeping into the case
I'm not sure how it does it
Soon cupcakes, muffins, brownies, all
Fall under its sway
Morning, the baker stumbles in
Yawning
Faces a united front
Pastries move in
Oh, they'll open today
It might be a bit late
But it'll be special