The other night I took a stroll
and came across a little hole
that looked as if it might be deep
enough to hold the hearty heap
of sharp unease which weighed me down
and caused my freckled face to frown.
I tried to shove it down that chink
and for a flash my woe did shrink,
but in the end, that mouth could not
receive the cumbrous, dreadful rot
which sent my lean and stooping shape
to seek sweet twilight’s soothing drape
and so my heart resigned to keep
these pricking fears which shake my sleep.