sonnet 21.6.13.

So frail and frustrated I mouth tuttut
And trudge a zombie zagged by point of knife
I dont begrudge the signals from my gut
I feel so dry and empty dealt my wife
I suffer silent working down the rut
Im terminally tedious testing life
I dont have maps or goals to make the cut
My pay is poor my debts are real and rife
I carry kilograms of gormless guilt
I punt a pile as if Im bullet proof
I cringe when crowded then I lurk aloof
I have no spine I only want to wilt
Look all right for life is dress rehearsal
Since youve opted out its no reversal
Chorus rehearsal practise training