Poetry to Me

Sat, 01/13/2018 - 18:45 -- gsilva

Notebooks, napkins, and tests
Have all served as resting places for my words
Every surface that dares meet my eyes
Becomes a potential burial site

 

But, before the grave,
Comes the shovel
And when digging up inspiration
All that had been buried is brought to light

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741