Abandoned by scorn, forgotten by hate?
My nerves unworn and my knees unshaken,
Even as this cool dawn warms and grows late.
What have I done to cause you an offense,
O ghost of offenses here and today?
This morning finds me frozen in content
The vapors of my heart and wit seeped away.
The election continues, that is true,
And yet I see no sin in that right now
The idle outraged usually pull through-
There's still Lou Dobbs, though I don't see how.
With no complaint, folly nor cause to scold,
I suppose I must have taken a cold.
CRYPT, n. An untroubled heart.