Jejune by Mike Williams 08/08/2016 @ 5:56 P.M.

Meager morsels for the mind,  
Thy palate 'tis an empty crumb.  
Stricken I to mine hunger pangs,  
Away with thee in wanton sum.  

Does thy bread bring affliction,  
As for flour unable to rise.  
Thy sword kept in its sheath,  
Dull its rusted blade without surprise.  

I would argue and too wager,  
Had not thee come unprepared.  
Depriving all of sustenance and company,
A bore to intellect beyond compare. 

Starvation and impoverishment keeps its presence, 
With an inner depth of a teaspoon. 
Alas the world goes without education, 
Empty and ravished and jejune.