Thoughts without a purpose

Floating in my head

Get jumbled,



and Rushed

With no way to slow them down 


Poetry is abstract, yet concrete

Organized, but unplanned

It is the rhythm of the heart

Written and spoken

Sung out from the mouth

And illustrated by the hand


Poetry is clarity

Abstract in meaning

Or perhaps precise

To each, a new picture is formed

Different than the last


Poetry is beauty

In the form of words

Carefully thought out

Or not thought out at all



Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741