to be a poet
takes a lot
takes a soul
who has been through hell
or more
poetry comes from the darkest places
From a deep hole, nobody wants to enter
It comes
From fears, and frustration
From all that sadness, and depression
From a river of tears we cry at night
Holding our pillow, so we dont make a sound
And you hold it close, cause you want someone there
But nobody cares
There is no one there

All those feelings
Write them down
Your mouth is shut
But your words come to life
~MR