Everyday, every night,
when the sun or the moon is out...

Short of hopes, a log swims;
Afloat...

I saw the crescent moon
like an orphan child in winter...

It's just a tear in my eyes,
That breaks my heart, and makes me sad...

Oh fluffy, whitey pillow!
when night do comes...

I was peeled
into the shape of a human...

I fear not myself nor the world,
But my heart...

And it is true, that if tomorrow
the oceans go dry...

May be, I am this book on my lap?
The one I usually close to nap...

I’m dying
I’m dying everyday...

I feel the need to take this to my grave
A love as vast as all the universe...

One day Anger asked his psychologist,
"What am I ?" And the psychologist replied...