When I Enter He Is In A...

When I enter he is in a corner Cutting off his hair. The scissors struggles with hair and him, And I struggle with what's plauging him, Eye twitching restraining from slapping him. Is this her son? is this his fun? After a moment of his quiet reflection Induced by some of my slapping action, he finds the strength to describe his pain For his For mine For dead mother's gain. "I've let my plant die Too many times. What kind of person kills themselves Io satisfy created social concern? I'm stronger than this. Smarter than piss. With a mind that only petty gods Must've had the mind to kiss." If that's the case Intelligent, Call me when you're no longer bent. And take that rope from round your neck.