This was written in response to a painful experience I had.

Some will weave nightmares
for you to explore.
A fanciful tale
of smoke and air.

The power of weaving
a world of their own
is like a feast of finest fare.

(And still:
they may mock the cook
and tap the plate
with scornful look.

“Who eats this?” And then gobble.
Slurp.
Cackle.
and belch.)

When you wake up
startled and shred,
They hang overhead
and wag their fingers:

“Who dreams? Only fools sleep.”

Then turn away in their quilts
to sweetly slumber.

“THOSE WHO EAT” – BY REN