A cryptogram drained by empty spaces
Heaps of dots; its only taste of ink
Collusion between confusion
-A pen, a scrap of paper-
Sweat grieves on your forehead,
The clock ticks;
There’s time to think
Yet conceited lay the empty spaces,
No longer to be written in
Relationships once had,
Floating ABC’s and 123’s
Washed away,
Drenched in your surrender
