It'd be easier to cut into me
All the words I wish to see
For the time I waste writing in vain
Does naught but cause me uncouth pain.

This pen's too heavy, my arms, too tired
And through me a mistake is wired
Too long my cogs and wheels have turned
Without due love to be returned.

Emotions flow too free and too wild,
Like the hands of an impish devil child
Too strong and too deep, they rage like bears
Shouting loud as they can, yet no one's aware.

For, feeling things as I often do,
Often what hurts is the ilk that is true.
A false word would save me the strife-
Oh! See what my heart has done to my life!