There were two voices. One, the laughing music
that sent me in your footsteps all the way,
the joy when I grew we, and when the morning
grew bright, without compulsion, from mere grey.
Too much your second voice has taken over,
too often harsh, too often with a catch
that rises from a half-staccato bawling
at anyone that will not meet your match -
that voice of discontent, fear of not coping
with any problem that may taint your day
upsets my vision even in your absence,
denies all joys and fill me with dismay.