Like a tooth with an abscess deep inside,
I'd need a root canal to reverse the slide
into utter decay and ruin
that's to the point where I hardly
know what I'm doin'.
Like a broken tooth with too much to chew
my mind cannot process all of you
not one, not two,
would wear my shoe
could walk 10 feet
before they'd say "I'm through!"
Waking up too late to find
I'm not possession of a whole, sound mind.
It will not serve me if I reach the endgame
and up till then I'll hobble, lame.
Other infirmities catching up,
a sorry sagging lot to try and jack up.
Support was there but crumbled away,
inviting me to follow
on just the right day.
©Captain Cal
8/96