My gouty foot

shouts doubt at night,

turns up the pain

if I don’t eat right. 

Warming comfort

isn’t enough, to amuse 

my grumbling

two-bit hoof.

My broken big toe

won’t let go.

Keeps telling me off

for its creaky woes. 

It’s my fault

for this sorry state,

should’ve skipped the tackle,

pulled out too late.

My gallbladder

was a c...

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