There’s a little piece of poetry
Rotting there in vain
Sectioned black
A vermin snack
Cashing in its fame

And on rainy days
It sits and gathers glove
And for a moment it
Forgets
Unbeknownst to love

As confusion sets
A sudden rush of peace
A wish in vain
Reaching out
to the latest priest

Last read rights
Sitting tight
Waiting for it’s time
The day at last
When it out ran
The cheetah of its prime