50 Times Poem by David Knox

5o times i have wailed
as if i have been impaled
now i can see
that its really me
lying on a stick and rope yet this is just a dream a horrid one dang you rope
dirty and devoid of hope
dead with festering wounds and cut
caught in a blood soiled rut
a trench i dug for myself now i lie in it myself
and the trap i laid and put my heart out to shrivel on shelf i now lie in both
o the fey imbroglio namely life so fey
forgive me if i inveigh
in verse and rhyme
but i do such things all the time
more then the fifty deaths imparted unto to me
yes seven, some deaths i accepted happily...

(God saved me from this rut and this living torture and i no longer die a single death nor did i ever actually died i fooled myself)