Did you say die, Lord
When my foes looked
Enviously upon me
Wishing I would be off
...
Let my cry touch you, fate
You who killed my father
And let my mother follow him
Down below six years after
...
Cure my fever if you can
It is not physical
My ailment lies deep inside
My pithy chordal sacks
...
The roads split in two
Belie portents of shame
The crooning livelong day
Astride illustrations of the past
...
Twilight next to setting sun
Reminds me of my skin
Black, black like charcoal
Bold and beautiful
...
Spirits on the rails
Wait for the caboose
Just to tip it over
So children will die
...
We learn to harry others
Refusing then to grow
Preclude the boasts of those
We think can do no good
...
Crestfallen and teary
Pulses low and dreary
My body is weary
Still with weeping weary
...
One cannot be short
And tall both at once
You're either rich or poor
The in-between is boring
...