Hand is falling
Everyday, I grab a pen or pencil.
With it I scribble words all over a page or two.
It becomes a pattern, a routine.
I read and write, every night.
Till I had enough.
My hand is falling
Change pen color n highlighter,
To mark up important things.
It's too much for my hand!
Hand is falling off!
Oh,
When will this end? Perhaps it'll end with I leave?
Or will it end when I've had enough?
My poor hand.
My hand is falling off!!

Some sadness
Can't be burnt away
You'd get asbestosis
From the smoulder
You've got to wait
For brittleness
It's chips away
As you get older.