This brief candle
has been flickering all too long
just holding out,
hoping the Scot was wrong.
The sound and fury
have overstated their stance
by this fool of a woman
who has wasted every chance.
It’s true that this tale
needed desperately to be told,
but if no one will listen
it’s soon tainted with mold.
The hour is up
and the crowd must go home
since there is no significance
to an unread poem.
Autumn Siders 