Even the masters
Shall suffer with the rest
It's the dysfunction
Of reality
It's the evolutionary catch

I try not to be at a loss
When the words get stuck
In my brain
But it's hard to think of one
As a master when
So much dysfunction remains

Over many trials and errors
I have managed to change
   My unwanted reactions

Allowing for
The thankfulness of life
To fill my heart
With satisfaction

Is there anything more
That needs to be achieved
Perhaps a master
Must learn how to grieve
Or learn how to face
The demons of youth
And thereby admit
Their deepest dark truths

We all have our reasons
We all have are drags
'Cause real masters
  Were raised by bearded hags...