Caring

If caring were the bounties truth then all the effort I could use and too, the pain that sees me through of this known struggle's strained aloof from my demeanor, is it proof? Oh Caring, is my heart behind while my hands pace another line, is it the poem, or the define so caring is betwixt consign and thereby gives me broached consign! So tempered with its hardness foil, I rise and fall, do lose my mind and of contempt, am muddied soil, Oh caring's thrust, what foolish bind does wile away my nature's kind! What matters lest, what else to find, the goal "injustice" treat as mine the awesome truth so intertwined, I swallow or reject resigned, Oh caring, follow up remind! That I am swearing, roughness tined to meet contrary . . . not as wined!