Its tartness stings over the moment's next moments,
Towers miles high above the populace,
Penetrated by laundry stains thickening blood.
Awash, they fall back on their rent,
Tardiness disqualifies them to race,
They determine: I can't climb it, who could?
Its juicy shadow falls over in torrents
Enveloping more those who won't move at any pace,
Once free, now only juicy goodness fills their blood.