This Thing

This twisted thing you lock inside your heart,
Hiding a key that no one dares to find,
It suffocates your breathing and your art.

It nags at every portion, every part
Of your capacious, all devouring mind,
This twisted thing you lock inside your heart.

Your anguish is so deep it’s off the chart;
You’re caught forever in a double bind
That suffocates your breathing and your art.

It poisons all your thoughts with its keen dart
And makes you cunning when you would be kind,
This twisted thing you lock inside your heart.

You find all fruit is bland, and wish it tart;
You spurn all flesh and only taste the rind.
It suffocates your breathing and your art.

Oh throw away this thing, and make a start
By learning from the self you leave behind.
This twisted thing you lock inside your heart,
It suffocates your breathing and your art.