Oh the irony,

To be in such disparity,

And yet so merry and gay,

Is this right is this O.K.?

Do you think he was the same way?

Witty Whitman and his writing foreplay?

With his witty and merry twist of the words,

His artful and beautiful prose.

No this cannot be.

For he could not have known my pain,

My pain with this Poison ivy.

This itching ivy has sealed my fate

And has scared away potential mates.

Everyone sees me as a cursed and wretched thing.

I feel this serpent sliding, seeping and slithering

Through my veins.

But I have control, I turn this around

And make it Positive ground.

But he could not have known this curse

For this Content did not exist in his universe.

This scratching, scathing, slithering ITCH[ing]-IV.