Written by: jeffry cohan


If my body is a temple it’s been potently polluted
And if my soul is a church it’s doctrine has been desperately disputed
My head tries to convince me that life can’t get any worse 
But my heart assures me that yes, with certainty it can
Yesterday consistently comes back to inflict me with a bite in my ass
While tomorrow constantly arrives to infect an already festering wound
I lay in bed tossing, turning and yearning for peace
But my pillow may as well be a sedimentary stone
And still my head and heart won’t leave me alone
While I try in empty desperation to silence a dreadful drone
The sound of my head haunted by a moan
With a heart which heaves a grievous groan
My bedroom is a cell with bars too well known
And hopefulness is drowned out by a tormenting tone
With uncertainty a most horrendous curse
Yet I’m left with the certainty that life, indeed, can and will get worse
I’ve learned little, taught naught and am caught between the fence of yesterday and the gates of tomorrow
And here sit I under a shadow cast by my past and the dissatisfaction of sorrow
While even in silence I can quote sinfulness by chapter and verse
And believe me, my life can and will certainly get worse! 
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