Power
Power is my sword.
Grace is my ford.
And me not be a hoard.
I use to like my cable cord.
Now I carve wood art.
My palace is made out of form.
This poem is about:
Me
My family
Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741