Here is one of my own poems from several years ago.
It used to run thru me like a rapid moving stream
Turning any nightmare into a dream
It was the turning of feelings into pages of words
But they never listened, they never heard
It was I in those pages, buried deep in that box
Some of it hidden, now some of it lost
The gift of writing is given to few, some understand, so never do
I used to write them all the time. Sometimes even giving them music. But after my life got hard they all started to get quite depressing so I stopped. I guess I should have written myself straight thru it all but I didn't.