Cement Toil

This feeling, literally gut wrenching
Curdling, sitting and benching
People by the ears

Fizzy cauldron thoughts, boiling
Toiling with my thoughts
Quickly inhaling the droughts
Brought upon by the horrendous thunder storm
Exhaling shrapnel, cement falling bricks behind my eyes like a window to the soul, standing broken and all
A part

Physically ill, mentally off the pill
Taking away the thrill
Of bring criminally insane
Washing my life, drain
Straining my back from pulling on your heart strings

I mean well, things I say
They may sting
A bit, tearing through you, bring
Me your greatest pleasures
And make me your best treasure

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