I start with my fingers,
then my toes;
carefully tabulating each mistake.
Soon I move to my eye lashes;
plucking them out one by one.
Each hair on my body must go too.
Laying them down I organize them,
friends I hurt in one pile,
enemies I made in another.
The head hair reeks of vanity!
Things I did wrong is the most vast,
taking up half my desk alone.
This leaves only the floor
on which to place my penis.
There go the girls I once loved.
Bit by bit I fall apart.
Attempting to shed every mistake
I remove my skin and of course,
because it rhymes,
I lose my sin.
Next my muscles must go;
never used them anyhow.
The fat slides off with it.
As a chill sets in I think of
all the meals and gluttony I’ll miss.
I take them all to curb hastily
hoping beat the morning man.
He’s always so sneaky, thus I watch to be sure.
There he is and there they go.
Little more than bone and brain
I sit and contemplate.
It’s all gone now; the whole of my past.
“Free at last, free at last!”
Or so I thought…
I lost myself with my mistakes.
Without anything to correct
I’ve become all wrong…