lets have a look at the problem in hand, a pathetic figure you're struck low now by a malady that beaded brow and streaky cheeks could not remedy, though this hidden sport was a last resort which you could ill afford, your embarrassment bore no reward, still your ego's manifestation raised no eyebrows. you burn inside for your wounded pride decaying to self-contempt, the knowledge that you've been outdone by someone else's rising sun hurts more than any cuts you've done but like the cuts your pride will heal if you can teach a worm to feel.
