#2,374 Our disease

Our disease’ll creep
under our thoughts
[it’ll ruin sour lives –

raking at tired time
claimed upon] & so
it continues gifting –

I didn’t get to grind
into dust [no fusses
‘bout such] – it is so

dull awaiting cures
[some reclaimed to
dish out dividends]

& thinking is never
to be mixed into a
stew [cut & slice of

facts] – In time I will
delete those of one
person cheating all