In magazines and newspapers
Cameras roll, from pins to poles
Information as a notion
Is a tower and for power.
With sensitive smells, fragile bells
The hounds track cities, woods and hoods
Spilling the pens, writing in dens.
Highlighting subjects and objects;
Painting an art, toping the charts
Of the most love, yet hate revolves.
Their tragic fates brings fears and tears
Why reward them with cuffed hands!
In restraint or a quenching breathe
Yes they scam, don’t cause them harm.