Those of you who read me, in the mornings come to find
About the things I think about, inside my troubled mind

In fact you’re my encounter group, I have to let it out
But still it leaves me insecure, and lingering in doubt

I tell you all about my scene, in hopes I can compare
With things you think about each day, but still I’m unaware

I know the way this works alas, don’t worry I’ll be fine
But time to time it would be nice, if you’d drop me a line

I share my darkest secrets, as I go right down the list
I haven’t got the bread to pay, a proper therapist

Jeff Burkhart’s “Rhyme and Reason”
© Copyright, March, 2017
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