Poem: Pain of the Ungracious Ungraced

I am being poured out from the tips of my toes. It gushes out from the seams of my wound. It fills me up to the top of my soul. My God, you have forsaken me.

I am being poured out n no one can tell,
I am being gutted out, from the seams of hell,
I’m being embittered, embattled, enchanted, entreated like the prisoner I am,
In a war that whose fault nor part of mine I sink in

wondrous erroneous man,
Sensible helpless man,
Evil cruel man,
Horrible tired man…

I am being poured out
From the bottom of the end
when will the healing feeling fill me up again

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