Green be envy
Green be pride.
Green is the bald princess who rides.
(into the cold corner of my head)

With fear, unnamed.
With pain
I walk through the rain.
(to meet you and try and rhyme)

To push, by force,
For in the cold corner
I'm left with no place.
(intentionally left blank)

Rains stop
to let the clouds touch the road.
I walk through.
(the pain was not caused by the rains. Alas!)

No place in head
to feel the fear,
For the bald princess
called in the ants.

Ants. That the clouds threw.
Shaped similarly.
Into my head
(and its cold dark corner)

I can see no more
and lose my flow
in what I write
for the clouds form a haze
in the cold corner of the cave
(except where the ants have left holes)