La Dispute - a Poem Lyrics

Third time writing you a letter, getting darker. I'm getting worseAnd worse. 

I had a reason for the writing, but trying toExorcise my demons didn't work. To try to rid me of the worry and to purgeYou out of wonder for the future and the hurt. I wrote a poem:

I'm increasingly aware I've been painting things in gray, 
I'm increasingly alarmed by the pain, 
I'm increasingly aliveTo every cloud up in the sky, 
I'm increasingly afraid it's going toRain. 

See, lately I've hated me for over-playing pain. ForAlways pointing fingers out at everyone but Who in fact is guilty and forPicking at my scabs like they could never break but they can and They willAnd I'll spill like a leak in the basement, a drunk in the night choir, Just slur all those Words to make deadbeat that sweet old refrain, Self-inflicting my pain and therein lies the real Shame: I heard when theyWere picking through the rubble finding limbs, they sang hymns, but NowWhat of what I sing? 

The worry, the wonder, the shortness ofDays, 
The replacement for purpose, 
The things swept away by
The worry, the wonder, my slightness of frame, 
TheReplacements for feeling, 
The casual lay. And 
The worst ofThe wildlife wears clothes and can pray and
The worry, the wonder, For three meals a day. 
Only death unimpeded, not slowing it's pace, 
Brings that petty, old worry and wonder away.
