Baby blues Santa's shoes Writing out What's this about? Timing's right in the night For a glass of some grass Eating rats are the cats Sitting here listen'ng ear Poem's done Just a ton rhyming words and blue birds
I am my worst enemy I don't need anyone's help to bring me down. I do a good job myself. I hide my feelings from the world, bottled up inside me heart. Poetry is my only outlet, a way to soothe my soul. Writing helps to ease the pain of living in this world. A little something I wrote this morning. Peace and love
I agree with the second one, I'm the same way. I think, oddly enough, that holds true even when I'm writing positive stuff. Creative release and emotional release, more similar than one might think.
