The Donut Hole

Empty space

Function or waste?

Is it not for convenience’s sake?

I find it hard to believe, oh copper’s friend

Is so weak as to break and not bend

Alternatives though is miracle-rend

Delicious danger

Brother to officer’s gun

The same hands hold you two

The same finger that grasps the trigger

With your absence things are messy

Sticky lips, lollipop digits

A grateful snack 

The signed-off patrolman’s dessert

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