YOU WON'T SAVE Keddiz, BUT YOU CAN FIND HIM

I feel very bad

For the very much deprived.
A twinge upon a tad
Of an empathy arrived.
They, the willing victims of the dreaded double-damn,
Stay along the dotted, dated, daunting line of laughs,
Bellow at the feckless that it's fruitless to believe the task
Is all but taken care of,
So they share themselves.

With whom?
I think you know,
But let's keep the curtain thin s'it is.
On a rainy Thursday this
Becomes a curse that treats their kids
To sodas, slurpies, pecan sandies,
Woe, and cause to form a fist
To blood the palm with days they absolutely lost
In lieu of bliss.

--Keddiz