You say,
" let it come out,"
so I can better deal with what it's about.
Get diarrhea of the pen,
running words that spin.
Express the inner pain,
thunderstorms,
let it rain!

Cheers me dears,
Age has faced all of me inner fears,
I've dealt with the heart and soul tumor,
no need to spread anymore rumor.
The pandora box was wide open,
younger years it affected me coping.
To much was out,
almost deleting me life out.

Maturity has taught,
pandora box definitely naught.
I know my heart and soul very well,
no need to go on a confession spell,
converse with the shrink,
cause I can't think.

Cheers me dears,
I control my inner fears,
run the shows in my older years.

Now that the fight inside is over,
I can let the sunrise cover,
no need to rain on your parade,
my dues have been paid.

Cheer Me Dears.

Sincerely,

G