The white pie in the sky,
holds my dreams and
serves them one piece, my oh my,
at a time.

So when my head lowers like
a lander on my pillow white, I
make a case for the dreams
to feed me, to feed my future,
while I digest my past.

Oh but I lament
to my discontent
what is the context
of the intent of the
the man in the moon,
serving me one piece
of me at a time...non-stop
all night, ...
Indigestion?.
or Insomnia?

©DWE072013