One lone wasp, it's not so scary,
But in my skin, its stinger does bury.
I swat it away, only to see
Where once was one, there is now three.
The pain which they inflict on me
Is nothing short of agony.
I try to crush them, but when I do so
The corpse is replaced by a living trio.
Such is the case in all my life.
Whenever I try to end a strife,
Or a problem I try to riddle out,
I receive many more when I turn about.
It piles on and on until my back must break,
Or until I ignore them all for my sanity's sake.
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