A confession

I do not want to rile you

But I pray to extricate me

From my pains.

I am in a parlous condition

So I cobble to plead my cause

I have became inured to my pain

So I write myriad request for assistence

I do not have the wherewithal

To give solace to my aching heart.

But my desires are nourished

with indeliable efforts.

Do not think my plea to be bagatelle

For  it is guided with viability to succeed.

                         I am a petty soul and

                        I have a Herculean problem.

                        But below all this , is an adamant mother

                        Whose mettle and perseverance,

                         Even 'God' will testify.