Mad some have gone, tears that are shed.
Sad for having none, missing who are death.
Bonds that are done, future that can’t be bet.
Poor to buy a phone, being the regret’s pet.
In these
four confusing lines I said my pains.
Every
day and every season it always rains.
Though
I stand, it makes me live in drains.
I have
for all the time, all day tried to refrain.
It may
be nothing to you in your brain,
But for 20 years I have been in this sore
train.-2Ne3
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