The throb of suffering

Ibuprofen, my old friend
I've come to swallow you again
Because an aching softly creeping
Left its pain while I was sleeping
And the soreness that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the throb of suffering

In restless aches I jog alone
It hurts so much I wanna groan
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my feet were stabbed by sudden killing pain
That’s too much strain
And touched the throb of suffering

And in the naked light I crawl
Ten thousand knife-stabs, maybe more
Painful running without speaking
Painful running without listening
People writing poems with agony always there
No one dared
Disturb the throb of suffering

"Fools" said I, "You do not know
Aching like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my feet that I might reach you"
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the pang of suffering

And the people bowed and prayed
To the Advil god they made
And the bottle flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, "The words of the running gurus
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the throb of suffering"