I feel a need to purge myself. These few words will do. Complain to whomever will listen. And make sure they rhyme, too, Or no one ever will read them, Or no one ever will want to help. Seems my body won’t respond, Until after a lengthy delay. Seems like time goes on and on Until forever and the end of day. Seems I’m walking through heavy air And I can hardly force my way. Seems there’re things of which I’m not aware And I don’t notice most of the day. Seems I can only make discord Because I can’t remember the fitting key. Seems all pain in my mind is stored Because everything only seems to be. Seems something must be in this world That will really be solid for me. Seems something must towards me be hurled That will hit my head to help me see. Seems somewhere my goal must lay But I can’t see to find it. Seems somebody must show the way But I’m the only one who can find it. Seems I must go on and respond. Seems I must force my way. Seems I must try to hear the key. Seems I must hurl the world. Seems I must find my own way. This is not a plea for you. I am the one I need to reach. I am the one I want to listen. I am the one I need to teach. As I am the one who needs to write them, I am the one who needs to read them, too.