Pastel pieces of paper littering the floor

Notes, lists, worries, and more

It’s called OCD and I couldn’t find rest

In therapy, workshops, books, or meds

Poetry provided the outlet I need

To release the tensions inside of me

Rhythm and rhyme gave order to my life

That was run by irrational thoughts and strife

The Post-It notes still litter the ground

But read them and hear a more pleasant sound 

Thank you poetry for the rest I craved

It is through you that I truly was saved

This poem is about: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741