I cannot write poems.
Sometimes I don't even understand
the ones that I read.
But I'm writing this one now
instead of that other thing I'm
supposed to do. Just because.
I cannot write poems,
yet they let me pour out
my emotions, instead of letting
them rot inside.
Is there even a rhythm to this?
I cannot write poems,
but I continue to do so, so that
every day I can smile and laugh,
while inside...
I cannot write poems, but I
continue to do so, so there's
something left of me if I
end it all.
I cannot write poems.