When asked about my Temperament
I’d often tell a Lie—
For I was Stable through and through
It’s not as if I’d Die:

A Light was on inside my head
So Bright as Tungsten burned
But glass had shattered long ago—
As heartless season turned

The Winter was a weathered friend
Until it showed its back
The Light flicked off inside my head—
The Candlestick burned Jack

For weeks I’d drift along the Pitch
Still like a Deadened pond
A Wasted Lead* insomniac
They Begged me to Respond

The Lake it stretches down a Mile
The fish all Glassy-Eyed
My Filament sinks to the sand
I pray to God for Tide