Ulcers

I curse ye ulcers, I curse ye
You're nothing but trouble, despair art me
I cannot even polish my mandabilic prongs
Without feeling thy sting on my singer of songs.

Indeed thy curse I curse as well
It may well be that within thou'st dwell
A mournful regret to match my own
As you eat at my flesh, reach for my bone.

It may also well be that I brought this on myself
All the boxes of chocolates now missing on my shelf
All the late nights and days spent worrying for work
All the socials and dinners, i really went bezerk.

Now that I think of it, there is no one to blame
All of our faults are equally the same
It was really quite wrong of me to place the ulcer in scorn
I shouldve been like Job and said, " I wish I were never born!"

Hahahahahaha... man that Job guy is soOOoo funny/pathetic. :P