Sometimes I think I've lost,
The poetry that's me.
It's still in there somewhere,
Trying to break free.

The flow the calmness,
My id that feeds me.
With everything it brings,
That makes my soul sing.

It's been with  me,
When I shed my skin.
Stops me being blue,
When people that I love;
Try to break me in two.

The world goes round, 
The sun comes up.
Just the same, And yet,
I still feel the rain.

Poetry by Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 89 times
Written on 2022-02-25 at 00:40

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
All poets feel the rain. But writing does help a smidgen.

John holliday
I really empathise with these words.....singing the Blues always helps me.....these words would make a good song...

F.i.in.e Moods The PoetBay support member heart!
The joy and the sadness in tandem I think is the plight of sensitive souls. That's what your words made me think. I also relate to the need for writing, and finding a sort of pleasant release in doing so, but I also know those times when it feels like it's not there anymore. I don't know about you, but those times always make me feel pretty antsy and annoyed lol Really enjoyed your poem, thanks.

jim The PoetBay support member heart!
You have the soul of a poet: to feel the rain, to want to express it in words—it can never be lost, though sometimes misplaced.