I feel a bit of hate,
Not with you mate,
With me.
My centre of gravity
Is a bit askew,
I keep on falling too
Why am I in this shape?
Filled with pain and whine
Nearly all, the time.
No one takes me out
Listens when I shout
And call out.
I feel a bit of hate,
Not with you mate,
With me.
I wish there was a special
Oily spray, I would
Lubricate where I could.
Then I would stand up straight,
Eye to bloody eye
And smile at you mate.
© 2023 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
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