Dont eat the bad flesh

I wish I was better I'm always under the weather but maybe if I were a feather I would be one of the wise or so they say but to my demise they took my only lonely eyes away with empty eye sockets i have nothing left to weep only to seep into my lungs they fill with blood but nigh to what it was the blood is dead within my veins only to stain my Dreadful brain and printer's ink to keep what's left of me sane but I sink I'm exasperated by my shame if only I was just the same I'm ready for the earth to swallow me whole I'm tired of being called an old soul I'm done hiding and sheep's wool I will partake in the consumption of my rotten flesh and I'm full