Little window sill,
Fathoms morning Light,
Time-tested liquid Quill,
Gathers Poetic Insight,

Honesty and Ampersand,
with Lacking Luster Motivation,
Who can you still love?
with sour thoughts of Indignation...

We have seen the Head,
and the Boot,
the Pinnacle of Flagellation,
Timely Timed,
Questioning,
The Simile,
or Metaphor,
of our genuinely retarded Equation.