The Agony

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Woe shakes its finger
In my face, like my
Third grade teacher did.

Misery olemnesciently
Yells obscenities at the
Top of its lungs.

Despair ties me down
And slowly drops water
On my forehead.
Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip…

Pain shoves bamboo
Shoots under my
Nixpian fingernails.

Anguish holds me in
An iron maiden’s
Sharp-toothed caress.

Agony draws, then
Quarters me, so that
It may then display
My intestinal spoo
To the world.

And all because I
Ran out of chocolate…