The Voice There is a voice inside of you That whispers all day long, “I feel this is right for me, I know that this is wrong.” No teacher, preacher, parent, friend Or wise man can decide What’s right for you – just listen to The voice that speaks inside.
My skin is kind of sort of brownish pinkish yellowish white. My eyes are greyish blueish green, but I’m told they look orange in the night. My hair is reddish blondish brown, but its silver when its wet, and all the colors I am inside have not been invented yet.
FROZEN DREAM I’ll take the dream I had last night And put it in my freezer, So someday long and far away When I’m an old grey geezer, I’ll take it out and thaw it out, This lovely dream I’ve frozen, And boil it up and sit me down A dip my old cold toes in.
I’m making a list I’m making a list of things I must say For politeness, And goodness and kindness and gentleness Sweetness and rightness: Hello Pardon me How are you? Excuse me Bless you May I? Thank you Goodbye If you know some that I’ve forgot, Please stick them in you eye!
A spider lives inside my head Who weaves a strange and wondrous web Of silken threads and silver strings To catch all sorts of flying things, Like crumbs of thoughts and bits of smiles And specks of dried-up tears, And dust of dreams that catch and cling For years and years and years...
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Teddy said it was a hat, So I put it on. Now dad is saying, “where the heck’s the toilet plunger gone?
The Yesees said yes to anything That anyone suggested. The Noees said no to everything Unless it was proven and tested. So the Yesees all died of much too much And the Noees all died of fright, But somehow I think the Thinkforyourselfees All came out all right.
How much good inside a day? Depends how good you live ‘em. How much love inside a friend? Depends how much you give ’em.
Never explain what you do. It speaks for itself. You only muddle it by talking about it.
Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.
Talked my head off Worked my tail off Cried my eyes out Walked my feet off Sang my heat out So you see, There’s really not much left of me.
I asked the Zebra, are you black with white stripes? Or white with black stripes? And the zebra asked me, Are you good with bad habits? Or are you bad with good habits?