17 My breath is strange to my wife, And my supplication to the children of mine own mother.
18 Even young children despise me; If I arise, they speak against me.
19 All my familiar friends abhor me, And they whom I loved are turned against me.
20 My bone cleaveth to my skin and to my flesh, And I am escaped with the skin of my teeth.
21 Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends; For the hand of God hath touched me.
22 Why do ye persecute me as God, And are not satisfied with my flesh?
23 Oh that my words were now written! Oh that they were inscribed in a book!
