A Poem About Poetry

I find poems give a soothing kind of peace
When I am confused, or when I need release
Reading others work helps me learn with mine
Often I will seek another type of line

What I hope to gain is broad, never dense
Simply I would like my poems to make sense
Still the odd word will interrupt my rhyme
Somehow it is soothing, knowing I have time

When a poem starts, I start with what it is
What has made me think, or what has made me quiz
Things that are uncertain, what has made me sad
When I think to write, always I am glad

People are like poems, complex to a t
As with people sometimes, poems wish to be
First the thought preparing, then a single word
Sometimes with a whisper, it alone is heard

Loud Music

Turning on a song
On the radio
Make it even louder
Loud as it will go

Keep the music playing
So I cannot hear
All the things I'm thinking
Blast it in my ear

Drown away my thoughts
Wipe away my tears
My eyes are flooding over
Using up my fears

Everything is wrong
My heart is torn in two
I need to patch me up
Or all will see right through

I want to keep on fighting
For nothing is alright
Help me understand
Let me see a light

I thought it all meant something
I guess that I was wrong
But still I'll try to help
A friend for far too long

Background Story:
I was really upset over a guy, and I couldn't stop thinking-what did I do wrong? This question kept running through my head, and it was so upsetting to me. I didn't want to think about him anymore. I was upset at myself for thinking about something I didn't want to think about. I turned to my mp3 player, and turned the music up as loud as it would go. I just didn't want to think. I'm not the kind of person to normally be blasting music as loud as it would play, but here I was, doing just that. After having realized what I was doing, I started to think again, but about what I was doing. It made so much more sense to me, after looking back at this experience, as to why teenagers are known for blasting music in their rooms and ignoring their parents. Such is the steryotype presented of all teenagers. However, I felt like blasting music in my room, and ignoring any unlucky trespasser, so I could now relate.