Little Pains




Gut renching sorrow,
Will fade and give way,
To Little Pains which never leave.

I beg for release,
From the hell I've made,
Custom fit to me.

Enduring their mockery,
Sometimes I wish,
They could see hate.

My words seem silly,
Even to me,
Speaking of pains I couldn't have felt.

The mind works in odd ways,
Turns against itself,
and makes a raging inferno,
of Little Pains.