We lie witness to the trials of a press that would singe prose. .
& has spent thousands of hours perfecting their Jessica Lynch shows
The potential saviors of my 'special' neighbor hone a song to be sung
But their minds have wandered elsewhere, along with their funds
Ten years young & balding; God's light has dimmed & been curbed extinct
Pre-puberty, he deals with more facial hair than the women of Murder Inc.
The heart dreads a smart head that endeavors to catch his drift(s)
Whilst his fate basks at hearth's edge; next to network executives
"Life is worthless, I might deserve this. ." I read it in his diary
He realized home evolved to house him in a crevace of society
Scapegoats are useless, each situation ought to teem with facts. .
But it proves no system's perfect, & you could fall between the cracks
Treason-sponsored, reasons squandered - thoughts profound but implausible
Alone & witless, while prone to sickness. . the sound is inaudible
Truthful & painful. . His story will, in part, deplete resurgance. .
'Cos a scream's volume matters not when it starts beneath the surface

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