Therapy

I was down on many days/It was hard in many ways/I've been through the dirt and through the mud but all my dues are paid/I was "What the fuckin" all the time/Havin nothing clutch the 9, not a nickel, not a dime/Drank away the issues, vodka soda, vodka limes, been through plenty tissues, suicide inside my mind/But then my friend I found a pen and jotted down a line/And in that line I made a rhyme that talked of better times/Addicted to the versus, twisting words and then inserted, different phrases of the days when everything was just so perfect/That's what really started workin, on the page I started merkin, filled with rage I went insane and rode the wave like I was surfin/It was therapeutic, didn't do it just to do it/I was so influenced being down and feeling ruined/Took the past and then I chewed it, choked it down and then I spewed it, then I transferred to the paper like I worked at Western Union/I was flowin, it was fluent, with every rhyme I was improvin, deep inside I wasn't losin, one direction I was movin/I arose out of that darkness, from that hell I then departed/Took the gas, I lit a match, I struck the pad and then I sparked it/What was meant to be, it began to set me free, skillful at this writing thing I finally found my therapy.