Pain In The... Poem by Christoph Praus
Pain In The...
The anxious gut is a twisted not,
Not for the faint this sucking rot,
And though the thought of birth's besot,
Is nothing if not pain, a lot!
So hot! So hot! So forgive me.
Get thee gone o worthless sot!
Leave my belly, and to my lot,
If life's but the only one I've got,
Out of my mind lest ye be shot!
Friday, April 24, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: anxiety
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4/25/2024 12:15:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
