The jester taunts, "How many do you think,
both high and low, can dance on my three pens?
What poetry supports the truth of ink?"
I sighed and said, "The evidence depends."
And still he taunts, "How many eyes will read
the gap 'twixt truth and lie, though angels save
the best of them who spoke for all to see?"
Again I sighed and said, "We must be brave."
"There were too many eyes, but ayes too few;
they saw the human beast but missed the saint:
Of Chang and Webb and Hunter no-one knew,
And what three pens might wipe their shadowed taint?"
You haunted three, your mem'ry never will
be lost, so long as we remember still.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In 2004 and 2005, three fine writers, Iris Chang, Gary Webb, and Hunter S Thompson all took their own lives. This is for them.


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It's a bit bi-polar (okay, more than a bit) I know... I'll work at sticking within the strictures.
