Worse, a recess and back to worse;
six months, three and last week;
now the pointer shows rot, a lot;
seems stunted the growth.
Waves from hell, less frequent, still swell
to burn and force answers.
The swine, a double agent, breaks;
giving out a creative cry,
while crawling through
the slimy grey within
a thinning curly prison.
Don't you glorify this silly chore...
... To paint a scape,
cute, sweet this day,
depressing in a week.
Knock knock! Those grand illusions
at noon with high fever.
A victim; beguiled by the
women in red, men in whites
and his psyche, a regal black!
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