Oh this distress,
This terrible distress,
I can not control it,
And all I do is stress about it.
I might as well love it,
But that would mortify my soul.
As putrid as it sounds,
As wicked as it may be,
I wish death would come quickly,
So I’m no longer stressing
About this terrible distress,
That has corrupted my veins,
And destroyed my brain.
As Insane as I may be,
I just want this to end immediately.

© Joel Francis