What's The Point

If not for the feelings I have within

I don’t think I would feel

The need to hold a pen

Expression through aggression

Torment and depression

Suggesting who I am

Seldom changes

Yet writing words

Somehow erases

Misplacing unspoken words

To every ear it reaches

My story isn’t fully told

Each passage beholds

A piece of me

Each sentence spells

Through appearance isn’t seen

I’m still a mystery

Writing down words

Serve as my therapy

Never evaluated

Repeating past discrepancies

As I re-read what

I have explored  

They all sound the same

As I keep writing more and more



Writing erases

Yet paper cannot

Endure  






Author's Notes/Comments: 

"Writing Erases, Yet Paper Cannot Endure"........ The only one in life I ever felt understood me was a piece of paper, yet it cannot talk back, it cannot say I understand, you'll be okay. Yet it erases what I cannot tell another and I know, no other will understand. May sound confusing, but I'm sure my fellow poets understand, as we all write as a form of release... The title of this poem may be what's the point, but I know without writing I wouldn't be me.

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