Give me an herb to stop the snapping.
What does it take to stop reacting?
I hate what I appear to be
When hormones get control of me.
My thoughts revealed. My tongue unbridled,
I let you have it. You weren’t entitled.
Please forgive my last tirade.
It’s all my fault. I am dismayed.
You don’t deserve what I dish out.
Lord, shut my mouth before I spout.
Dump these hormones, I do say.
Oh dear Lord, please take them away.
by Lana Giacumakis
