Worry, the monster, hangs on my back, With a face made of fog, With a form like a log, And with long claws that rack, rack, rack, Worry hangs on my back. Worry, the monster, drones at my ears, With a screw for a tongue, And with leather for lung, And a siphon of fears, fears, fears, Worry drones at my ears. Worry, the monster, reaches my soul, And he makes it his own With a sigh and a groan, And a pall on the whole, whole, whole, Worry reaches my soul. Worry, the monster, won't go away; He has found him a room Full of desperate gloom, And he swears he will stay, stay, stay, Worry won't go away. Worry, the monster, has me in thrall; And I groan and I sigh, And no helper is nigh; I am under his pall, pall, pall, Worry has me in thrall. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EXECUTIVE by DAVID IGNATOW AMOUR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |