Iam Trapped Arrived in Location Bizarre
Wouldnt be Thwarted up If
I did Comform to Fortuity
My Brains Can Not Drill
My Thinking is on Sabbatical
My Mind Hanging in Thin Air
My Skills Vetoed to wield
A Mausoleum in the offing
Koshered Postulant for Perdition
My Abilities Delineated Inept
Scrapped off of My Sturdy
My strength is Annulled
Disarmed to Square Nill
My Serenade is No More
Left with Minmum Electives
At the Mercy of the Mire
My Vitality on the Pickets
Realised I'm not in a State of Oblige
My Redeemer Should Now Take A Stand...
I Crave to be Bailed Out
Vote for this poem
