I’m late, but I trust these words are heard in time. Difficult though it is to compose prose together through letters and by rhyme.
It’s been soo long since I’ve strung the string of song; since I’ve sat down to write about my life… …what’s right now and who’s left to be wrong.

I am 33 and exactly where I am meant to be. I am defeating cancer and still seeking fresh answers to who I am mint to be.
Looking forward toward being lymphoma-free, hearing congratulations upon my graduation exercising my diplomacy.
My life is an ever-evolving thing. The only constant is that I am a consummate revolving being.

Thirty-three instead of 16 bars. Snickering/loudly whispering proudly sweet somethings into indiscriminate stars.