Because once I hated myself,
I didn't know who I was,
Depression ruled me,
And I never knew life in its forms;
      Suddenly I saw a place,
      Words had shapes and life,
      They held things like truth,
      But most of all truth of self.
See, if you write honestly
Then you can see outside
Of yourself, you become
More aware of the world.
     I figured the world was crazy,
     But I found a certain beauty
     In that too, so I wrote my depressed
     Self, all my pain.
I wrote for me,
to discover myself,
And you know what?
I found that I can tolerate
The world around me and
My crazy self through these lines.
     Now, I don't hate myself as much,
     I try to help others expand their
     Understanding of this artful
     Therapy, and I leave those
     Who cannot see beyond their
     Yesterday in that place.
Poetry is a way of dealing
With life's pain and social
Sharing of the craziness of poets.
But sometimes you see those
Who cannot move on,
Be careful, sometimes misery
Loves company.