Poetry

To say all the things I could never work up the courage to To do all the things I could never go out and do By putting my pen to paper, it gives me an escape From all the stress, whirlwind, and heartache And puts them all together in this other world Where all my problems conglomerate and become a blur It's a habit I never want to quit It's my way of taking a drug-free "hit" It's the thing that keeps me going Beautiful, poignant, and endlessly flowing