To pretend a manuscript is yours
which you didn't write
to impress somebody is short-lived
for suddenly for details
is asked
and a missing strophe
for an empty space.
Sudddenly you can't get out of it
then for the sides
and bottom you have no explanation
for a greyscale drawing
in colour
is in the authors memories
what was there found?
So much is not written or left out
there the pretenders
tries to slither their way out of the cobs
of the spiders nesting place
but into a cocoon
is it rolled and for dinner
made soon enough. |