There are days, and then there are days
That I regret living, and a hundred ways
That could have made it better still
And yet I let sorrow have its fill

When I could have said words, that didn't hurt
Or been the better person that day
When I could have let ego, slither away
But instead I smeared my goodness with dirt

But there's so much pain, inside
And a growing typhoon of rage, so livid
And for how long will my emotions hide?
For what, just a few little words insipid?

My acid tears, within me burn, ever widening hole
Eating away, rotting what little is left of my soul
Some day, quietly, the volcano burst, will cool
Leaving me, a broken eggshell, like a fool...