Ever since, I've been quiet as a mouse.

As I sit there my fingers a twiddle,

I slouch in my seat to look so little.

But every once in a while,

The look in my eyes becomes so vile.

Then it happens, the unexplainable,

My chord cuts just like the cable.

I bash the T.V. with a bat,

I tear up every baseball hat.

I chop a tree into a log,

I attempt daily to swallow my dog.

I'm most certain it's just a phase,

That only happens on one of those days.