Contributed by Robert Lyons
I wish I was numb to the stinging eponychium
Ripped asunder
Throbbing agony, panic attacking just a reaction
To picking my pocket or salting my digit
I wished it away as I twisted and fidgeted
Salty language echoing as I bellow in anguish
Everything dangerous , this is hangnail serious!
Merciless , this nerve running a curve from shoulder to paw
Soldering the nip could pause the fury, or bolder still
An amputation! That may kill the pounding strain
Boggles the brain how the little, the seemingly mundane
Can inspire my tome of a thumb in pain
