Does a poet write only when he is sad?
Doesn't think so
But have heard so

Does a poet write only when he is upset?
Is writing a way to escape
From the world that hurt you a little too much?

Does a poet write only when he is depressed?
Why is his happiness not penned down?
Why is his prosperity not shared?

A poet doesn't write only when he is sad
All feelings, all happiness, all emotions
All of this is written

He writes when he is happy
He writes about the nature
He writes about everything and everyone

Poems are not always meant to be sad
They contain hope, love, peace
And so much more

The closest I ever feel
to anything
is to the words I write.
When I am a million leagues
into the depths,
and there is nothing,
nothing to do
but carve these letters
into the floor.
No,
nothing.
Nothing more.
Words ring hollow,
and melodies fall flat,
prayers (un)heard,
another test.
This too will pass,
but while it stays,
while it tarries,
black is bequeathed behind
my eyes
my mind is marred
in manic peril
and I carve these words
into the floor
one more time
one more time
once more.

I’m fine.
Really, I promise I’m okay,
See I’m smiling,
So please get on with your day.

I’m fine.
I can see the worry in your face,
See I’m smiling,
I’m really not your pity case.

I’m fine.
I’m really not that sad,
See I’m smiling,
So how can it be that bad.

I’m fine.
These are tears of happiness,
See I’m smiling,
I’m no damsel in distress.

I’m fine.
There’s no problem here,
See I’m smiling,
But I could disappear.

I’m fine?
I’m not sure anymore,
My head filling with doubt,
I am bruised inside and out,
I feel like I’m worth nothing,
And nothing anybody says,
Can get these stupid thoughts,
Out of my stupid head.

I’m not fine.
Not even okay,
Can someone help me please,
I can’t do this by myself,
I can’t get out of here alone,
I need a helping hand,
But I can’t ask for help.
I can’t scream!
I can’t shout!

See I’m smiling...
I’m fine.