do you question, as I do
the time suffered painfully through
the churning of a constant true
and breaking wireless of a sort?
are you happy to report
the second coming last resort?
or would you rather just retort
within your stage and clamoring few?
a docile servant becomes you
adept at nothing, talent-proof
all hate raised to those who blew
the deflating bubble that surrounds you
all that’s matter, matters not then
what succeeds won’t be forgotten
Copyright L.M. 2007. (in a series of many written around the same time a couple months ago).