Strange danger, awaits around not the corner, but within ourselves.
The danger is present in every crevasse of our being.
No we do not possess the danger to wreak havoc upon ourselves.
It is as dangerous as a thunder storm in July.
When fireworks should be booming, spelling out words, and making us dream, just like Walt Disney.
There should be pies and pies and only pies, because why not have only pies.
They should be of all kinds blue, red, purple, orange the taste of a rainbow should rest in our tummies.
Everyone that passes by won't wonder how did they get so many pies, they will wonder, can I have some?
And I will tell them, why are you asking, the pies are begging to be eaten, can't you see?
Because in July when there should be Thunder storms, not this day, I offer you pie.
There will be no mistreating, no mistaking, no one will pronounce your name as cobbler in this day.
And when all the mighty and delicious pies that were never mistaken for cobbler, are gone.
All will know this was some very special day in July. Where the thunder storms stopped.
Where someone just as special as those pies, but probably not as delicious.
Came to give us all what we were craving, and represented it with pie.
To those that weren't there, they will always think, pie pie pie I wonder what was so unique about this pie.
What is pie?