The words...
Blood-stained and rusted
From too long... Squeezed
Between clenched teeth
Fell from his mouth
Ponderous
To almost elicit
An  audible thud
Upon slamming into
The scratched... Torn
And somewhat forlorn
Ancient linoleum floor
Some six feet below
Where they shattered
Like fresh eggs
Becoming scattered
In fragmented resignations
Abstract
In that surreal and demented
Opposition
To the artistic design
Of circular symmetry  
And parallel lines
All but worn down
To  absolute unseen
Ignored without that juxtaposition
Formed by those withered words
Held in... For so long
To be utterly dead
Thereby bringing back to life
A century old
Piece of artistry
Long only seen
As ... just really hard to mop