Over Bored

I'm not angry
Nor am I mad
I'm just happy
You're only sad

About my loss
Of composure
That day I tossed
You right over

Into the cold,
Flowing current
And cruelly held
You under it.

There's no deny-
Ing that you're sore
When I say I
Was over bored.

The Odd Door

My front door had been acting odder and odder
of late, staying ajar and being rather a bother
to keep shut, so I decided to take it to a shrink
and have it anylized like I did the kitchen sink

just a few short months ago (I found out it was mad
at me when I left for a week's vacation and had
brought everything but it). So I called to set
up an appointment for as soon as I could get

penciled in (which after talking to the receptionist
this ended up being next Tuesday at a quarter to four).
When I arrived that day with my rebellious door
the therapist firmly shook my hand and promised

me a quick resolve as to why my entranceway is stuck
on being unclosed. Then with a heavy pat on my back
he said, while desperately trying to hold back a laugh,
"Besides, I think we already know he'll open up."