The epitome of inequality.
Frosting is distributed unevenly;
caked gloriously on some,
depressingly absent on others.
Anger and frustration mount
each time a claw raises
uncoated multi-grains to my mouth.
But each time my grasp
manages to find
a sterling white mini-wheat,
I remember why
I put up with all the ****.

But the question beckons,
whether or not
the absence of imperfections
would lessen the resonance
of the frosty treats
to my oral senses.