The Had

No more the curse of what is bad, enduring cause, or so-so sad I am the circle of the mad, disciple of implore . . . the Had! This venture, trusted counterfeit the soul's combustion ~ make it fit, alas, alack, the sum of it, I am rescheduled ~ my work's bit! Oh labor lost, the onion's pit has much more flavor ~ keep, not spit approve, thy own concern with grit, a self conferring, truth not skit! No cause demurring can restrict, this thought occuring ~ I've had it!