The cloud looks very tired...
I'm afraid
HE might
fall
and bring
me down too.

The sparrow says that HE
wants to write...
I tell him "no"
and HE flips me the man.

My mirror stares
at the wall...
and sometimes
down the hall...
I'd cut my head
if HE ever should fall.

Damn pillow jumped off
the bed
AGAIN...
Was it the early morning drool,
or the screams that only
HE can hear?

The ink dries,
the printer cries in laughter--
relentlessly mocking.
I think HE's to blame
for why this sounds
so utterly lame.

Go Back To The Mental Page

Take Me Back To The Truth