I choke on my emotions.
They are out of my control.
Though I choose a tune of Jazz,
I’m imbued by Rock and Roll.
Why do I cry and feel this way
while fine and in my prime?
I am tired of this feeling,
This emotion; boiled brine.
If I could use my logic,
To quell this monkey brain,
The things I could accomplish!
But a monkey I remain.
