There’s a rotten tooth stuck in my head
I blame if for all the vile things I’ve said.
As this tooth influences all that I say
My words come out twisted and stink of decay.
I just can’t control what comes out of my mouth
This world is screwed I constantly rave and shout.
Some people suggest my rotten tooth should come out
So I can cleanse my cesspit of a mouth.
Friends hope then I might start to heal
Not realising this to me has no appeal.
As I feel without this tooth I wouldn’t be me
forever condemned to write toothless poetry.
So there’s still a rotten tooth stuck in my head
I know we will be together until my last breath.
But I wonder if this tooth had any actual effect
What if my soul was always bitter and wrecked.
What if I imagined my rotten tooth was there
Because I needed something to justify why I don’t care.