Just Bliss

How many aches should I keep with me?

Collect melancholy, bear catastrophes?

For, my pathways are all corkscrewed,

Thorns spreading all alongside the way;

My lips are lamenting sorrowfulness

My heart has heartbreaking pang,

And the spirit is deeply wounded 

It’s so much suffocating here,

That, I am short of breath ———;

The pollution here is so colossal

That, I can’t breathe, am fading;

I need fresh air badly to breathe,

 In this dense grimy environment

For, it is, but, by necessity ——!