There's something fishy about this poem...

More humour. Was in fits while I constructed this.

Face pinched and beads of sweat decorating my bland tan pain that's mocked by man It's agonizing, tedious breathtaking on it's own I'm in so much f*****g pain of those who do not suffer the same, I am envious Discomfort rattles my shell shakes me, the wound warm to the touch  I hold myself together, but... the flow is just too much.   I can't stop the bleeding... I'm in Hell. And now I can barely stand the smell. I've run out of pads.