I got past the shaky usage
Of “to journal” as a verb.
Yet I never wrote one entry
— Nothing lengthy nor a blurb.
I believe I’m well-adjusted,
And I studied counseling,
But I didn’t hit the keyboard
As a self-healing wellspring.
Yet when 2020 happened,
With its virus and George Floyd,
I started scribbling daily;
It became my Sigmund Freud.
But it wasn’t free-form writing
That I turned to every time.
It was poetry in motion
‘Cause I like to make things rhyme.