Poetry is my tool for expression and stress relief. Here is my poem which is a debate I have within myself where I claim that Poetry (She) is futile in my depression and preoccupation with the past mistakes. Thus do I battle my negative attitude with the very thing that has helped me so much -- poetry:

A relationship with the both of you could not see through clouds of gray... Where there does the Sun walk on during the day.

Without her, could I not even know that He was there. She reminds me of the light that resides above thick clouded encased with the dew of the Earth. Depression swallows me in the night as false hopes and dreams cloak me in His time to roam Earth. She clothes me with confidence and glee. My mind is flooded with Dopamine. I then begin to live again. I am once again confident.

If you should say. She means much to you. Likened water to life. For as much as she can birth is as much as she could destroy.

Your bitter attitude and spiteful speech are neither visible or audible to me.

Poetry helps me fight me -- with love.