sonnet a.5.13.

I bite my lip I strike my brow then cry
You break my heart in being just who you are
I shouldve sooner said we live a lie
Youre only all right looked on from afar
If things and thoughts are fine I could yet sigh
The fear I feel not let it mix and mar
The memories of good and bad times bye
I should lay olive oil on vinegar
When doors close on your back I draw relief
I let my hair go loose myself again
Its not your fault the petrifying huge pain
My secret viewpoint plain invests with grief
To thrill you asks for thanklessly hard work
I leave you richer its my queasy quirk
Chorus work labour toil