I need a piece of toast

I have a need, this growing thirst
it must be quenched or I will burst
--but my thirst is not the liquid kind, however
it is luscious toast for which I pine...

a slice of rye, or loaf of brown
glass of milk to wash it down
some toast I need to sop my wounds
blackened grain for every mood
a crispy breastplate for my soul
stacked upon a plate with rolls

yes, I crave toast in all its myriad form
singed so glorious every morn
toast to slather, toast to butter
a crusted sister, a raisined brother
--why, if I had toast instead of family
then christmas would pass quite crunchily

I call for jams, I cry for jelly!
clear some room within my belly!
coax the honey, rouse nutella!
Mr. Toasty is a hungry fella!

I walk through life - not living - inside a dream
of toasted angels with crumbèd wings
while my toaster sleeps 'neath stars that gleam
I prithee wake me when it dings

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