Therapy

These days I turn feelings into melodies

And frustrations to waveforms

But these days these lyrics don't ever take form

I still write in cursive

As I let this beat play on this plane as I brainstorm

My head's in the clouds, feel the turbulence

I'm still trying to figure out what my purpose is

I know the root of all evil

Money ain't everything, it don't bring happiness

But I been trying to let this green heal me like a herbalist look

I might've been late to them nine AM lectures

But you can still find me where the lesson is