Problem is, I' sometimes have a dark day,

On which it doesn't seem to matter what I say

Even though I'm trying to be heard,

They first ignore, then talk, and listen third.

Really I've got more to add, protests unheard, they jabber away

Yet the minute I pull out my written word,

I suddenly am something to look at.

Seems that poetry gets through their facade,

My words I scribble are my only aid.

Yeah, they hear it, and I get some relief,

Right now they get me, that's my belief,

Every word worms their way in,

Leading to warmth for me within.

Each shadow begins to fade,

All the dark days shatter, getting swept beneath.

Soon I'm empowered, poetry sets me free,

Exactly the way humans need to be.