Chronic pain

There were things, about which I

didnt use to think, of everyday

And thats bad, because when I

felt from them I didnt know their name

And they are the structure of my life

And through my life I have to strive

With problems which I have to name

And those things are called chronic pain

And nothing else worries me as such

And I dont have other problems much.

And of course itd be so easierly

To have money in chronic pain

And in chronic pain it so would be

Sweet to have food ready-made

And perhaps t'is the state of the politics

Which I wanted to solve to things fix

That in fact led me every day to this

Inability to name those everyday things

But the real core of this is my feelings

Which one could call a state of my soul

And I feel I have no life and nothing really

Will change my everyday dole

Unless I get that money and food ready-made

Or unless I am finally freed from chronic pain

So there is nothing but hope left.

Sadly my hope is very low

Because I very well know

The motive for all that.

T'is all because Im a monster

And I am recognized as that

And never thus it will be wiser

For any enemy of mine

To ever stop shooting at me

They all do that until they die

And they never back away at sight

Of even their neighbours dying

And as I know I am a monster

I know Im being kept sick

And that I will never be wanted

To be healthy and in strong fit

And as I am against lawbreakers

They have therefore no law powers

And therefore, to save themselves

From me they shoot at me at all hours.

And thus I have always little hope

That my chronic pain will ever stop

So I often do forget that

This is what makes my life feel bad.