Nicholas Bartholomew

Writing Is A Catharsis. - Poem by Nicholas Bartholomew

It’s a cleansing of old wounds,
reopened by trials of daily fire,
a catalogue of past error
dumped in the history bin,
a soothing of the spirit
badly bruised and battered,
a massage of the ego
in the absence of kind words.

All I need is a pen,
a notebook and
five quiet minutes
in the park.
It’s easy,
it’s cheap,
it’s far more effective
than a therapist’s couch

Comments about Writing Is A Catharsis. by Nicholas Bartholomew

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: history, fire

Poem Submitted: Friday, July 18, 2003

[Report Error]