For many years, my pen lay still
The pages blank - no words to fill
Now, pages overflow
My pen weeps - bleeds years of woe
Unstoppable and unconfined
My musings raw and unrefined
Far beyond OCD norms
My pen, prolific, epics form
Skepticism, no surprise
Neither anger's ugly rise
In daily life, they have their way
But pen in hand, viciously prey
Upon the words, befit the page
Years...