Cookie Spren

To your brain, I give, providing some food

I come to say, it is Not Wednesday my dudes

From my deepest of desires, my wants hidden away

Little "Sly Spren", emerge on this day

They seep from my fingertips, like slithering snakes

Flying 'round my head, a flowing, black, inky wake

They inspire this writing with all of their trickery

Leading y'all to read this fine piece of literary

Now that I've drawn you, trapped all the same

My final last words are: