Robert G. "Bob" Haney (March 15, 1926 – November 25, 2004) was an American comic book writer, best known for his work for DC Comics. He co-created the Teen Titans as well as characters such as Metamorpho, Eclipso, Cain, and the Super-Sons.
Haney grew up in Philadelphia, where he read popular newspaper comic strips such as Prince Valiant and Flash Gordon, and was a regular listener of radio dramas. During World War II, he served in the Navy and saw action during the Battle of Okinawa. After the war, he earned a Master's degree from Columbia University and then embarked on a writing career, publishing a number of novels under a variety of assumed names.
In 1948, Haney entered the comic book industry. His first published comics story was "College For Murder" in Black Cat #9 (January 1948). From 1948 to 1955 Haney wrote crime and war comics for a number of publishers, including Fawcett, Standard, Hillman, Harvey, and St. John.
In large part due to the anti-comic book campaign launched by Fredric Wertham's Seduction of the Innocent and the United States Senate Subcommittee on Juvenile Delinquency in 1953, most of Haney's publishers went out of business in the 1950s. In 1955 he connected with DC Comics and his first DC credit was the story "Frogman's Secret!" in All-American Men of War #17 (January 1955). Thus began a long association with DC, which lasted almost thirty years, with Haney scripting just about every sort of comic DC published.
When every single things Ive grown to love
Is tied up in this moment
Like a dream from which I pray I'll never wake
Who can wash away these tears
When all I've ever wanted
Is still written on her face
But the wind keeps whipping
And the time keeps ticking away
And it feels like Im not closer
With these miles caught in the way
Can anything be salvaged from this wreck?
With forever lying in peices
And her name tacked on my neck
Still caught up in what I wouldnt give
So stubborn and withdrawn
Exposed as though I'd never had a choice
Will things ever be the way they were
Blue skies and Open hearts
Talking up till dawn and reading Joyce
But now its clear
That theres nothing left to retrieve
And precious little that I can believe in
And I was just too blind to see it
So whats it all for?
When the lies mean so much more
Much more than reality
And whats the use of keeping score