Entrapment Poem by Doris Cornago

How
Little we
Know until
We know little
Confirming much
Is less, but nothing's
Added until aggrieved
Aggravating a foregone
Complaint on catastrophic
Coalition of catatonic cons
A bungling burglar caught
With the goods is like a liar
Forgetting to tie up his odds
And ends, caught in his own
Trap of circumventing rules
A scalp of a skin of a prowler
Entrapment of a prey starts
With nothing much but the
A hint of one word astray
A spider spins a sticky
Net, a fly is distracted
Walks in with eyes
Twinkling like
Two pairs of
Stick-on
Stars