A futile pen, mortally wounded 
By the razor hands of a leering clock
Lies bleeding;
Staining irrevcocably
The snow-white side-ruled shroud
That once was hunger's meal;
Casting low, long shadows
Over unborn, nonexistent lines.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &lt;&lt; &gt;&gt;

LoriJonesMcCaffery

A GLEANING FROM PANDEMONIUM

Hounded.
Nailed.
Arms outstretched.
Guilty by association.

Wanting cleanliness.
Wanting more.
Greed.
Lusting.
Guilty as charged.