My mind is a tub
For this, I write
I'll try and explain
Why I seem to delight
In typing my pain
Night after night

You see,
This tub is filled
Constantly
With pain instilled
Inside of me

But in addition,
Poured into the blend
A kind of fruition
And things that mend

I recently learned
How to pull on the plug
For which I had yearned
Forever to tug

Bursting out
In stanza and rhyme
Came all my doubt
Fear, hurting, and crime

Then I could see
In my tub what remained
Was light and beauty
Now reclaimed

So on I write
Of terrors and fear
To put up a fight
And keep my head clear