All I keep thinking is that I cannot stop this rhyming in my
head
This work that word 1…2…3
Like a dead old tree that will never leave
I ramble and jumble words and phrases out
No work can be done against
I think the same goes for my nefarious anger that lies
beneath
I fight it and cheat it
Lying
Pretending to be joyful and happy
I mean there are days when all I am doing is laughing
fucking drinking smoking
I fear those days may never return
Instead of fear just let it happen
That is what I must do
No longer can I repress it
On anything connected to the word “it”
It is me
Like the dead tree
One day long ago it was planted and it stood very, very tall
Healthy green and smiling
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