Death has a sweet tooth (and still no mercy)

a cookie is as a
   cookie does and I say
          he does it well.
All he's done is make me smile--
that's more than many males.

He didn't ask for mercy, no
he didn't even flinch. He only asked
"if there's anything, anything I can do--
please, please tell me, Miss."

And so I pondered for, say, half a second
but we both knew it was over so I
snatched him up and heard the cry
"please, maybe a bit slower."

"I've always been a good Cookie;
I'm not ready to meet my maker!"
I'm afraid all efforts are futile--
for I am a hungry baker.