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...AMERICA (1) by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE FAIREST THING IN MORTAL EYES by CHARLES D'ORLEANS AN ODE IN IMITATION OF ALCAEUS by WILLIAM JONES SONNETS TO LAURA IN LIFE: 156 by PETRARCH PROMISES LIKE A PIE-CRUST by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE GRANDMOTHER'S APOLOGY by ALFRED TENNYSON TO HIS LYRE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |