Erratum Poem by Benjamin Feliciano

Not to state the obvious so soon,
But my problem is me.
I am my own ailment,
And I am the reason I vomit every morning.
Only yesterday I stood upon the precipice,
Awaiting right or wrong.
All was tranquil turmoil,
As my mistakes began their song.
They whispered their names,
And glorified their vanities.
'Again! ' They chanted with poise.
The new misogynist hates not for inequality,
But for cause of justified distaste of a deceitful gender.