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Its a life of constant chronic tears,
brought on by the constant chronic fears-
that tomorrow could be even worse,
in this endless, vulgar, chronic curse...

That I chronically call my life...

Its a never-ending losing fight,
So easy to give up, as every night,
I lie under the sheets of my total pain,
praying the nightmare won't play, yet again...

But of course, it does...

For my nightmares aren't simply fiction,
its just the reality, of these afflictions,
that love to beat me, so far down,
love to see me prone to ground.

Begging on my aching knees...

I try in vain, to tell all the others,
such pain is real to this woman, daughter, and mother.
I'd stop it if I could, just for each of you,
and do the things, a woman needs to do.

But they don't ever even hear...

So I'm chronically all alone,
In my chronic state of a combat zone.
Chronically crying out at disease,
That no one chronically can even see.

So they all look away...

Rather than have to face my distress,
Its easier to make it seem such less.
But in effect, they hurt me more,
emotional pain now piled on my floor.

Next to the physical pile of painful me...

Oh, to make the world understand,
even just my own, little part of this land-
That what I have is chronically true-
Such torture would I never wish to you.

That I chronically call my life...