The past is bashing my face and my gut,
And I'm bleeding from cheek as I'm streaming from butt.
All the memory knuckles bear calluses, cut.
All the energy stumbles; my gait has been shut.
I'm stuck enduring this auto-collapse,
And I ought to relax, for I fought to relapse.
The unstoppable knack for disaster entraps
With insoluble habit of discipline-lapse.
Devoting focus on every event
That is loathable chokes out my hope, will prevent
The enrollment of moment in pleasure ascent.
So much motive is grown from the groan of lament.
A crashing sanity cannot repeat,
And finality, finally, cracks the effete.
I've been stunted by shunting comeuppance. No feat
Can obstruct my induction to mega-defeat.