In the park
you took my hand
And made a mark
Through the sand
And scribbled lines
On a tree
All these signs
Refer to me
The sand is gone
The tree is cold
Even this song
Has gotten old
In the bed
You took my heart
And beat it dead
You played your part
My eyes have spat
Upon my sheet
And now they’re fat
Like puffed up wheat
My angry side
You seem to hate
Likes to hide
And comes out late
But when it does
Come out that is
It hurts because
You’re such a wiz
You taught me things:
To hate is wrong
And loving brings
A pretty song
But now my tune
Is low and mean
And pretty soon
Remains unseen
I can’t predict
What happens next
My anger picked
A frightful text
This may sound mean
But please don’t fret
‘Cause you ain’t seen
Nothing yet.
Monday, September 15, 2008
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