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<font type="Arial" color="grey" size="3"> This isnt a poem, but I figured I'd put it with the rest of my writing. It isnt finished. -- I awake, lying on the morning dew dampened grass. Fear envelops my confused and dismayed mind as I ponder my aberrant situation. My naked flesh is bare and cold, and purplish blue from the biting winter air. I cringe as the flesh eating maggots and loud buzzing flies engulf my eye sockets. My stomach turns as my nostrils are filled with the scent of rotting flesh and clotted blood. My arms are teeming with a wide array of disgusting bugs; cockroaches, centipedes, worms, and leeches. I feel the nibbling of teeth on my toes accompanied by the soft fur of what I guessed was a rat on my ankle. I attempt to lift my head; to see what I knew was already there. My attempts are unsuccessful. I frantically try again to move any part of my body that my mind would so kindly allow. I struggle to shake my arm and expel the dawdling insects, and I fail. I make a bid to raise my leg and kick away the gnawing rodents, and again I cease to achieve my goal. I let out a blood curdling scream, instinctively trying to call for help, only I hear nothing. Suddenly a man appears, standing directly above me. I feel an overwhelming relief drown the fear that engrossed me only moments ago. I secretly scold myself for being so abrupt with my unnecessary childish fit. He stands droopily looking down as he studies my disrobed body. I wait for him to speak, to ask if I’m okay. I wait for him to offer me a hand, to help me move, or to call for help. I demand my mind to allow my mouth to speak, to call out to this man and ask for help. I want nothing more than to kick and scream, and force this man to awake from his drunken daze. He rotates his head to look behind him, and turns to walk away. Defeat and sadness consume me as he leaves me lying on the putrid ground. Moments later the pendulous man returns with a disconsolate woman on by his side. She holds a handkerchief to her face, seemingly protecting her eyes from the sight of my dilapidated body. As she slowly lifts her head to gander at my bedraggled figure my eyes recognize the grief stricken face. Desolation wallops my heart impetuously.</font>