They that dwell in mine house, and my maids, count me for a stranger: I am an alien in their sight.
I called my servant, and he gave [me] no answer; I intreated him with my mouth.
My breath is strange to my wife, though I intreated for the children's [sake] of mine own body.
Yea, young children despised me; I arose, and they spake against me.
All my inward friends abhorred me: and they whom I loved are turned against me.
My bone cleaveth to my skin and to my flesh, and I am escaped with the skin of my teeth.
Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends; for the hand of God hath touched me.
Why do ye persecute me as God, and are not satisfied with my flesh?
Oh that my words were now written! oh that they were printed in a book!
That they were graven with an iron pen and lead in the rock for ever!
