Mood Swings

And, through the school of life’s hard knocks,
I’ve learned to keep it down
And lock my prospects in the box
Of worldly-ills renown.

No sooner, though, than I relax
My hold upon my wits
Am I inclined to seize an axe
And chop the box to bits.

And then I’m like a stabled horse
That’s let out in the spring;
I let my passion run its course
And have fling after fling.

But, once my pride’s cut down to size,
I readopt my former guise.

Photo by Tobias Kebernik on Unsplash

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