On Baking a Lopsided Cake

Great poets serenaded a river or a lake
But here's my ode to a lopsided cake
I baked it with love; and butter and milk
To give it a texture as smooth as silk.

I started from scratch as I measured the flour
Beat the eggs in, four large for more power.
For extra fluff, some buttermilk too
But after a while, I had no clue.

Two tiers, same size? For Heaven's sake!
But the oven was ready, it was time to bake.
The layers just sneered with their judgemental frown,
While I waited for them to turn brown.

At last, they were out with burnt brown faces,
I thought it was time to put them in their places.
I snuck up behind them, ready to attack
And knocked them down on the wire rack.

It was time to put the frosting, my hands just shook
My child gave me an anxious look.
"Don't worry," I said, "it's just a cake,"
She nodded and I grinned, but that grin was fake.

The buttermilk frosting was a hit below the belt;
I lathered it thick and it began to melt.
The top tier slumped, much like a landslide
Landing a blow on my culinary pride.

Baying for blood, I pounced on the platter,
And shoved it inside my crowded refrigerator.
For an hour or so, I fumed and raged
Until my child took a slice on her plate.

I stared at her, my chest felt tight,
But her face lit up after the first bite.
"The cake is yum!" She piped with bliss,
"No cake can be better.. my mommy baked this!"

My heart was full, and I just said
"Thank you love," with a pat on her head. 
So, long story short, want to know what's my take?
I'll bake this again, my lopsided cake:)