It searches for answers. It seeks a reflection of itself in the mirror of others. Given its druthers, all would find themselves naked and of accounting lacking. Mr. Unemployable found himself sacked and the receiver of a good sacking. Seeking to become a schizoid in a three-piece suit...the effort failed. How many pink-slips had travailed? How many lives had been set sail? It hadn't yet given up.
Saturn definitely had rings and Pluto was much too cold for life as we know it. Pretty blue eyes were there but unable to affect anything save exhibit sympathy. The disenchantment chafed and smarted. Where dwelled empathy? a furtive glance came to naught and departed. No answers had been found. Still, it was no matter. the morrow would bring continuance for the exemplar.
