I want to write a poem full of feelings.
Enough feelings to reach the ceiling.
It will be sad, filled with all my memories that are bad.
Filled with words such as blue, and gloom. Or loom and doom.
Maybe the time when I learned that my whole friendship was a lie.
Or maybe those days, I lock myself in my room and cry.
I could even write a happy and ecstatic poem.
Like the day I found my real, first home.
The time the boy looked back at me with the same feelings.
Those are some of the feelings that made my mind hit the ceiling.
And as the possibilities go on, the poem can even be angry.
It could be how some people always go hungry.
I could fill it with hate, spew words of repulse.
With enough emotion, people shake and convulse.
I have so many feelings I need to get out.
They're filling my mind, making me want to shout.
I'll never be good enough to get it all down.
So the ceiling will stay emotion free.
And maybe one day, the Mayor of Poem Land will hand me the key.
The key of unlock the secrets of you and me.
The secrets that make writing free.