There are things,
we write about
because
we don’t have the strength
to speak them.
Unpublished,
sitting in secret journals
or folders on phones,
harsh enough to bring
tears to every mans eye.
Times of attempts,
death, troubled loves,
childhoods too traumatic to share —
we see no resolutions.
I wonder,
if that’s why
occasionally a poets
most emotional works
are not found until
their death.
Dec 2, 2017
Dec 2, 2017 at 7:56 AM UTC
There are things,
we write about
because
we don’t have the strength
to speak them.
Unpublished,
sitting in secret journals
or folders on phones,
harsh enough to bring
tears to every mans eye.
Times of attempts,
death, troubled loves,
childhoods too traumatic to share —
we see no resolutions.
I wonder,
if that’s why
occasionally a poets
most emotional works
are not found until
their death.
I feel like this poem is a good explanation of why I write and why I want to share my writing with more people
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