When you loved me, my poetry glowed
Then you left and my inspiration slowed
Still I keep writing to express my pain
Though I may never pen love poems again

When my teardrops blur the page
And I'm locked in heartache's rage
I wipe away my tears and begin to write
By the second or third verse, I'm feeling alright

When the heartache is on the page to see
I know that it's coming from out of me
Leaving less inside for me to bear
My pain, my poetry willingly does share

And when at last, my poem is finished
I find my pain has greatly diminished
And reading it over for the third or fourth time
I'm amazed by the therapy I've found in a rhyme

Harry J. Couchon Jr

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poetry-therapy/