In adolescence I dreamt amongst friends
What we might become,

"The President!" Said he,
"A Princess!" Said she,
"Happy."  I said.

Reconvened as adults we discussed
The likelihood of our dreams,

And found mine least of these.

I sat to end a day dragged on
Spaghetti topped with parmesan.
When the plates found clean, I let out a yawn.
And my pillow I placed my head upon.

In my dreams God had drawn
Back curtains to reveal the con;
A sky deceptively white as swan,
Found only as melted parmesan.

Again in morning I released a yawn,
Through my window I greeted dawn.
But found my dream all but gone
As the sky still smooth as parmesan.

And the day drags on.
And on.