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A poem:
Crisp and golden, sizzling bright,
In the morning’s gentle light,
A crack, a sizzle, then a fry,
Sunshine in a pan—oh my!
Edges crisp, with centers runny,
Breakfast calling, soft and sunny,
Salt and pepper, just a dash,
Toast is waiting, eggs to smash.
Simple joy in every bite,
Morning made just right.
Fried eggs, humble, yet supreme,
A breakfast lover’s perfect dream.
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