He is running through the house
scratching on the couch...
One day Anger asked his psychologist,
"What am I ?" And the psychologist replied...
plague haunting, struggles
as weeping willows dry tears...
The Summer sun is nice
Hot breezes that sometimes cool us down...
There we stood on the prairie
As the sun set that night...
He looks like a glass doll put way up on a shelf
Something not to be touched...
You cow! he yells
Just to hurt her...
No more grey-edged yesterdays
brimming monotony...
I close my mind to
the memory, but it...
Oh pain that in me reside,
Won't you leave my loving heart...
Are you to blame for stealing
matches from my book...
I am quite capable
of bleeding on my own...