Write, write
I think I might.

Rant, rant
You think I can’t?

Ramble, ramble
Life’s in shambles.

Pain, pain
To bed I’ve lain.

More, more
I’m but a whore.

Working, working
Bedroom lurking.

Food, food
Would fit my mood.

None, none
Starvation’s won.

Please, please
Come hire me?

Streets, streets
No longer neat.

Truck, truck
Has picked me up.

Working, working
Bedroom lurking.

Home, home
Again alone.

Write, write
I think I might.