The last stanza's a mess

While I was writing this simple little poem (Sometimes it's an exercise I do to clear my head so I can write some quality stuff. But sometimes it turns out quite all right on its own.) at the cafe, a couple were loudly and profanely demonstrating their grievances toward each other. And although it was almost funny at the beginning, it was also sad. Not for them. Forget them. It was sad for those of us enjoying the relative cool of the night (That day it surpassed a 100 degrees Farenheit, which is the scientific-equivalent term for So Hot You Can't Even Sweat No Mo') and trying to study/read/write.

how will i
will to do
what the few
choose to rule

cause matter
of the mind
still shattered
lingered time

never could
matter mind
take two pills
& grow a spine