17 At night, my bone is pierced with sorrows, and those who feed on me, do not sleep.
18 By the sheer number of them my clothing is worn away, and they have closed in on me like the collar of my coat.
19 I have been treated like dirt, and I have been turned into embers and ashes.
20 I cry to you, and you do not heed me. I stand up, and you do not look back at me.
21 You have changed me into hardness, and, with the hardness of your hand, you oppose me.
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