If there was any doubt
You had tied it up
Into a neat bundle
And locked it away
To gather dust
And incriminations
To rot and wither
Until you could safely explain it
As another unrequited sickness
Of the heart
Life is made of doubt
Avarice, envy and lust
As well as happiness
Peace, joy and pleasure
Hiding the negatives
Won’t improve
Any of the positives
Better to let the skeletons out
To dance and eventually tire
And save your heart