Shake It seems like a good time to cry, when the whole world's against me. I can't control this trembling, everytime this hate wells up. How did I get to this state? I cant help this urge, to bang my head steadily against this brick wall. I can't help these evil voices, which speak to me when I'm shaking from anger. I've nothing more to do, than to sit here alone in my room. Screaming eternally, silently as the walls turn to dust. I'm shaking again, from these penetrating needles that poke through my skin. I can feel my head burning, my brain, a hot, red coal. forcing this hate upon me. Falling onto the cold wet ground... And shaking. W. Ganong