Small Black Couch (Why I Write Poetry)


I could lie down on a small black couch

to fill the air with all my petty cares.

Or keep it bottled up inside

and let smolder,

until my face is lined, grey, and older.

Instead I use a pen, blank paper

to strip away sadness, fear and doubt.

From these bare bones I create art,

rhymes and verses form poems from my heart.

Words stitch together emotional gashes,

from pain comes meaning, 

a phoenix rising from the ashes.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

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