When you loved me, my poetry glowed <br />Then you left and my inspiration slowed <br />Still I keep writing to express my pain <br />Though I may never pen love poems again <br /> <br />When my teardrops blur the page <br />And I'm locked in heartache's rage <br />I wipe away my tears and begin to write <br />By the second or third verse, I'm feeling alright <br /> <br />When the heartache is on the page to see <br />I know that it's coming from out of me <br />Leaving less inside for me to bear <br />My pain, my poetry willingly does share <br /> <br />And when at last, my poem is finished <br />I find my pain has greatly diminished <br />And reading it over for the third or fourth time <br />I'm amazed by the therapy I've found in a rhyme<br /><br />Harry J. Couchon Jr<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poetry-therapy/
