Atonement - ON WRITING AND RUNNING

I’m atoning for my sins of being stubborn and a grouch
My posture downright sucks and my stomach is a pouch
I’m unable to enunciate and have a gravelly voice
I tend to drone on and on until it’s all just mindless noise
I put myself down a lot, it’s my one endearing charm
I’m getting pretty old so I know it does me harm
I had flirtations with the flesh which gave me room to hope
But those memories are distant and I can no longer cope
My writer’s block is gone, my depression has helped with that
But the writing is somewhat dark, and the therapist wants to chat
I was naive enough to think that the law would be quite clinical
But justice isn’t equal and that’s made me sadly cynical
I used to think that pigment just really didn’t matter
But people are very racist and it’s getting pretty sadder
I once rejected suicide to escape my life as clown
But I’ll have to reconsider because I’m really feeling down
I don’t see any way forward, I’m tired of being me
Just time to drop the hammer, and just let me be free