Yealong sonnet-- Iteration 25

It sinks away, suicide-- if I succeed! 
Or every howl they can't take away
Digs objectivity deeper. Never walk 
In anyone's shadow {hen tea
       w/toes slowly children
       hearing grows p per diem}.
We are the ass possessed. We are
The lump inside bright secklets, 
Ripping with duh mattel, ageless
Spatted. We think I know but I know
We's wrong, I just can't artickleate it;
That; You are the agenda. No, you're soaking in it. 
Postulate lastwards. {squeek}. Make an 
Abetter's day, just you & you. Go we!