I don\'t understand either Vicar

Have you ever been in a tornado, the clusterous evil turning?
No neither have I. It just sounded like a metaphor
Almost half way close to what I feel somedays
But I cannot give you a work of art, I cannot write anymore

Descritptions are so few and far between
I am unable to provide you with beautiful imagery
What I can give to you, is myself, wholesome, good and bad
Without metaphors, and not too many similies

Theres something about London, which is where I live
It\'s kind of forbidding I suppose, but nice at the same time
Me? I come from the nasty part, the kind of \"ghetto\"
The kids run havoc around the estates, oh and the crime

I walk along, plain old me, looking frumpy in a uniform
And it\'s empty, it\'s as though I am empty, there\'s nothing
Which is a contradiction really because I am human
I think I am not being literal here, there must be something

Of course I have a heart, a pancreas, a liver
Some kidneys and a good few pints of blood cells
I cannot say I\'ve lost any limbs, I have all my fingers
In fact overall my physical state is doing well

But still, still there is something not there
Something not quite right, hidden underneath me
I guess that nothingness would explain the constant therapy
4 times a week, not to mention the family therapy

I was once poetic, well at least mildy so
And now what? what am I, I can barely write a sentence
If I actually keep this poem, I will be impressed
Because I am going to finish it with a forced rhyme, repentance.