I'm going to try and make this poem rhyme,
While my backyard smells like fresh thyme.

I don't know what I feel,
But it makes me a little ill.

Why does the feeling of not knowing,
Make my emotions feel like overflowing.

It makes me feel like a river waiting to burst,
Ready to quench everyone's thirst.

Maybe if I tell myself I'll be okay,
I'll finally crack the formulae.

The ultimate formulae of happiness,
To overcome my snappiness.

Maybe one day I'll get there,
But till then, these words are all I have to share.