Joints truly hurt;
I’m sore and bummed.
And nerves grievously sting.
Some neural parts feel like they’re doomed.
It’s a sharp spine leavening,...
anodyne for leveling.
I’m wretched, so wretched…
don’t want to sing.

Joints truly hurt; to savor pain
is not one of my joys.
“No pain, no gain” is so inane,
a cliché unalloyed.
way too often employed.
Retreat, retreat from such lame noise.

When pain I’m in, my sorrow grows…
like thorns stuck all around—
from my neck way down to my toes.
Sometimes hurts throb and pound
and nearly bring me down,
yet I still manage to get around.

Even though hurt, I try to pace
myself, keep on the move.
I worry much about tightness.
So I must self-reprove: get off my ass and move…
not let my couch get a butt groove.