Making
My mind is a stream, blocked with muck
I grab handfuls when I must, throwing them onto the bank
Stress and worry, pain and even happiness staining my hands black
My mind is a stream, blocked with muck
Sometimes it’s not enough, my emotions fall through my hands
Slippery and slimy, slopping back into the block
My mind is a stream, blocked with muck
I use steaming tea as a shovel, the sound of scritching pen a net
I desperately try to clear the water, let inspiration flow, and yet
My mind is a stream, blocked with muck
Comments
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Lexi S.
I loved this poem. The emotion you put into this is so relatible and easy to read. I especially like the repitition of the sentece at the beginning of each stanza. The breaks add to the poem as well, creating each new attempt to clear you mind. My favorite line in this poem is, "I use steaming tea as a shove, the sound of scritching pen a net." This addition of figurative language really added to the poem. Everything stayed on topic and flowed smoothly without any odd sentences. Overall, I love the message and how you portrayed it. Great job!