Sometimes the best poems are unfinished maybe? They have a less produced feel to them and are far more raw.
Anyway, the imagery in this is excellent - nerve shredding, even

I can literally feel the tension building as I read this. Like singing “here we go round the mulberry bush” but never singing the final line “pop goes the weasel”

Agg....go an see the Wizard.......he micht guie ye some inspiration