Every step he takes— the eyes tries to "grasp"
Every whisper he makes— the ears lurks to "catch"
Every pin with his apostrophe— the hands aims for with sneers and catastrophe

Why can't a blood let a sleeping blood lie?
WHY!

The thoughts of this oddities sickens my psyche.
FUELING IT––my only brace isn't around–– and it rips my cranium as draggin' homewards along this miserly road.

Oh hell! I can't add pepper to a bruise nor can I empty a bin to another runnin' over—
For job's bones I ONLY to relish. So...