Featured Poetry - May, 2026
ACCEPTANCE OF ALONE
By Dr. Roger G. Singer
it was from burned seasons
and hard labor
a harvest of strange eyes
within a fever mist,
words etched on glass
with broken rules
and veiled threats
while honoring barbed lines
and stormy wrinkles
here without regret
HEALING
McKenna Henricksen
Healing takes time
Flowers bloom and die,
But once the sun comes again,
The flowers again will rise,
Sometimes it rains,
And sometimes it’s cold,
But the point of pain,
Is to know when you’re truly happy,
And know when you’re not
Learning to fix your smile,
Your problems and embrace it altogether,
Healing takes time,
Just like seasons will change,
The pain will come and go again
The darkness will disappear
When the sun comes
The pain goes away with the wind
Yes the snow falls
And yes the wind blows
But pain will come and go
Then the cycle will repeat
Until you learned to be
Ok with pain
And used to joy
OVERCOME
By Aaron Maheu
I took a bunch of pills one day,
but guess my story is not done.
I put a knife to my wrist one day,
but guess my story is not done.
I made a nouse one day,
but my story is not done.
I went out into a storm one day,
but my story is not done.
I drove by a bridge one day,
but my story is not done.
These are the ways I wanted to end my pain,
but my story is not done.
I tried to ask for help one day,
but my story is not done.
I hide the pain today,
but my story is not done.
I tell the ones I love today,
but my story is not is not done.
I start to let more people in today,
but my story is not done.
I lost my love one day,
my story is not done.
I finally show the unseen scars today,
but my story is not done.
I make new friends today,
my story is not done.
I start not feel hopeless today,
the story is not done.
I fall today,
but the story is not done.
I hide the guilt and shame today and the story is not done.
I write these words today and the story is not done.
I turns into you, and You will overcome.
ABOUT AARON: Aaron is an Army veteran, and has quietly battled with his mental health for 20 years. During that time he has considered hurting himself, but never did until things got too much in 2023. He used to write poems and stories before joining the Army, but stopped when he joined up. He has never submitted any of his writings before.
WHEN YOUR WALLS COME TUMBERLING DOWN
By Rich Orloff
When your walls come tumbling down
Rejoice living in the wreckage
Don't be in too much of a hurry to tidy things up
Or to erase your history
Take a moment and look around
This is where you once lived
Where you once called home
Where you were afraid to leave
Yes, the walls crowded you
Yes, the walls didn't let in enough light
Yes, the walls were so thick
That terror ricocheted off them
And were thrust into your soul
The walls didn't know that the enemy
Was actually inside the building
And that to be free
You had to tear the walls down
So thank the walls for protecting you
They were doing the job walls were meant to do
Breathe the fresh air and survey the landscape
And before you move on…
Place a small part of the wall in your pocket
Both so you know where you came from
And so you're reminded of your courage
To tear the walls down
And start a new life
Bounded only by infinity
ABOUT RICH: Rich writes both poems and plays. His poems have been published internationally, presented at churches and synagogues, performed in theaters and schools, and spoken at events both lofty and intimate. Each week Rich sends out a spiritually infused poem to a readership of over 2000 ministers, rabbis, spiritual leaders and friends. Rich’s plays (mostly comedies) have had over 2400 productions on six continents – and a staged reading in Antarctica.
UNTITLED
By Charity Louise
I woke up this morning,
jumped up out of bed,
excited to face up
to the full day ahead.
I walked up the street
to stock up my fridge.
Then I dug up my garden
to plant some more veg.
Then I hung up my coat,
and I cleaned up my home.
I called up some friends,
then I hung up the phone.
I folded up laundry
and put it away.
Then, I made up a poem
to describe my whole day.
Then I placed all my books
back up on the shelf,
and I put my feet up,
and I thought to myself …
after a long stretch of nasty,
and a big dollop of yuck,
it feels like it’s changing
as things start to look up.
THAT STREET
By Kirstie Jones
The mind has a way of taking us there
that street in our mind where we never feel enough
It is full of peddlers selling little trinkets made of
our depreciated self-worth
Flashy billboards replay
our embarrassments and recent conversations,
while storefront windows
are filled with self-acceptance
above our price range
Street performers deliver acrobatics of shame
making it easy to believe we are guilty of something,
though they tumble too fast to know what
The movie theatre seats film critics
seriously discussing
our ‘riveting and unprecedented’ emotions
The mind has a way of taking us there
that street
And when we find ourselves on its sidewalks
Let us walk with our held held high, chest to the sky
lengthen our stride, shoulders out wide
That street’s only a silly dream
We deserve our self-esteem.
ABOUT THE POEM: "I wrote 'That Street' to describe my internal struggles with self-acceptance, especially in the context of having CPTSD.I write poetry to find words for what is beyond words."
ABOUT KRISTIE: Kirstie writeS poetry about mental health and human emotions in the hopes of normalizing these experiences.
instagram: @kirstiejpoetry
MAY, IN OUR WORLD
By Maddi Smith-Nelson
May is Taurus time.
Blooms of love, bluebells
shading under emerald trees.
No time for decay.
Breath of spring, like love,
chasing demons of winter away.
The World is no longer
encased in cold and storm.
The weather, under reform,
like the thoughts that screech
away from the summer wind.
The gods of warmth
are on our side.
As our world waxes away
from its pale and dark side,
so do our thoughts
warm like cinnamon bread.
The ghouls of anguish and cold
are finally dead.
When they rise like thoughts,
as the darkness comes,
ride them with the warmth of your heart,
the gold dust of the Sun.
DISSOCIATION
By Jackie Chou
When I travel to my wonderland
I am no longer held by your hands
or your gaze
I can no longer hear mother's voice
urging me to tango
as you press your sweaty pelvis against me
the strobe lights illumining our linked bodies
slow, slow, quick quick slow
When I am in my wonderland
blue and white balloons and streamers
our class colors
float above my head
as I slow dance with the boy I like
from physics class
who has nothing to do
with chasing stardom
In my wonderland
I am free from the propinquity
of your breath
on my face
FREE ME
By Bobby Z
Deep inside, My exiled soul.
I’m a prisoner of my own torment.
It’s a costly toll.
Chained to the memories, Of times gone bad.
A self-imposed solitary.
To reflect and be sad.
To be free of these chains, I must forget the past.
Release me from this bondage.
Is all I ask.
I’ve served my sentence, Only ask to be free.
To resume my life.
And return to being me.
TWO WORLDS IN ONE
By Martha McDaniel
Mental Health Awareness is in May
Many are in disarray
Medical versus the Street Interplay
Two worlds in One
Mental Health Awareness isn’t a game.
Anxiety and trauma were locked and loaded, with shaky aim
Social Anxiety and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, doctor’s name.
“Paranoid or being stuck up” is the street frame
Two worlds in One
Mental Health Awareness just a brief
Moods and Emotions crash the night, like a window being broken by a thief.
Therapists use Major Depression or Bipolar type one or two disorders, offering some relief
The street value of flip-flop and in funk has no connection to the grief
Two Worlds in one.
Mental Health Awareness, stopping the stigma
Neurodevelopmental and Psychotic Disorders that were dogma
Tests have proven that the brains of people with schizophrenia and ADHD are an enigma
Norms would say, " Oh, they're just slow or tripping out. While past is what they dig
Two worlds in one.
Mental Health Awareness, you're not alone
Personality and Dissociative Disorders sat upon the throne
Borderline Personality and Antisocial Personality Disorder have their own zone
Citizens of the streets make remarks without understanding the unknown
Two worlds in one
Mental Health Awareness, your story is not over
Eating and Body Image Disorders can make people cover up
Anorexia & Bulimia, and binge eating are just a few of the notes of discovering
street slang: underweight due to drugs, the weight is unfit. Causing a longer recovery.
Two World in one
Mental Health doesn't define you, no matter the decline
Learning and growing will refine
Call 988 (111 - UK) to confine
Street will stand their line
Two worlds in one, and that is just divine.
ABOUT THE POEM: This piece explores themes of mental health and the personal journey of navigating different realities.
ABOUT MARTHA: Martha is the 2nd Vice President of the Poetry Society of Indiana. As someone who has walked her own path through the challenges of PTSD, anxiety, and Borderline Personality Disorder, she is dedicated to stopping the stigma and believe that these conversations need to be pushed into the public awareness much more, especially with May being Mental Health Awareness Month.
STAY BECAUSE
By Tyler Kent
Don’t stay because of recycled quotes.
Those “everything happens for a reason” lines
have been repeated so many times
they barely even sound like real words anymore.
Stay because your closet is still full
of clothes you keep meaning to donate.
Don’t stay because your life is a gift.
Stay because there’s still ice cream in the freezer.
Don’t stay because people would be devastated.
Stay because dogs know how to tell you it’s gonna be okay
without saying a word.
Don’t stay waiting for life to suddenly make sense.
Stay because the hoodie you lost four months ago
is still somewhere in your closet.
Don’t stay because you’re “strong.”
Stay because you’re stubborn.
Don’t stay because people depend on you.
Stay because your water bottle still has room for more stickers.
Stay because who’s gonna remind people how good it feels to put a stray shopping cart back where it goes.
Stay because your hands still know how to make things.
Even if it’s just coffee.
Even if it’s just a sandwich.
Even if it’s just a mess.
Don’t stay because life is beautiful every second.
It isn’t.
Stay because it’s weird.
Stay because it’s unfinished.
Stay because some of it’s sacred
and some of it’s unbelievably stupid.
Stay because there are still
movies to judge,
animals to pet,
food to get too excited about,
and more sides of you
still to uncover.
Stay because the future hasn’t happened.
Stay because there are still a few things left
that you’d hate to miss.
Stay because the world is heavy and ridiculous and human,
and it would be less interesting
without you here to see what happens next.
ABOUT THE POEM: “'Stay Because' is about finding small, ordinary reasons to keep going when the bigger reasons feel too heavy or too far away. I wrote it to move away from polished inspirational phrases and toward the simple, human things that can help someone make it to the next moment."
ABOUT TYLER: Tyler is a writer and founder of The Uncarried, a community-led suicide prevention and mental health awareness effort in Dothan, Alabama. Through writing and community outreach, Tyler focuses on emotional honesty, presence, and making it safer for people to say when they’re not okay.
Facebook: @tyler.kent.319
THE SWORDS I CARRY
By Alyssa
When I write these words,
I’m not just speaking—
I’m bleeding.
Each feeling is a sword
turned inward,
cutting through parts of me
I’m still trying to understand.
The sword of being unloved—
of giving so much
and never feeling it returned.
The sword of a love
I never knew—
a mother’s love
I still ache for,
the kind I would trade anything
just to feel once.
The sword of being a burden,
of walking into rooms
where no one really sees me
as human …
just something to carry,
or something to ignore.
The sword of never being enough—
of trying, and trying,
and still being underestimated,
still being overlooked
like I’m easy to forget.
The sword of wanting him
when he does not want me—
and the quiet question
that follows me everywhere:
*am I that unlovable?*
These swords pierce me,
again and again,
and my heart keeps bleeding
like it doesn’t know
how to stop.
I am already weak…
but somehow
I keep moving.
They say one day
someone will come
and take the swords away,
will finally see me,
will finally choose me.
But even then—
I’m still here,
still longing
for the one
who never did.
Share your poetry for mental health ...
Would you like to showcase your poetry for mental health here on this website, as well as our Facebook page? If so, please CLICK HERE for further details and submission guidelines.
