Since then, I've felt better.

I don't know but everything just felt better.
I couldn't say it right, so I wrote it down in this letter.

The first thing I felt.
I gotta say was spiritual wealth.

The second feeling was rushed.
When it passed by me I barely felt when it brushed.
But I'm better now, I'm not crushed.

The last feeling I felt.
It was pretty much Freedom itself.

Hi AtticusGallows! If I haven't said this already, welcome to YWS.

I won't go into great detail right now, as time isn't exactly on my side, but the main thing I noticed about this poem is that you were restricted by the rhyme scheme. I could just see you writing, "The second feeling was rushed," and then going through the alphabet trying to figure out some word that might rhyme with "rushed." When you came across "brushed," you contorted your poem in order to accommodate this gold mine of a word. Of course, this may not be the case, but that's the impression I get.

So, loosen up on your rhyme scheme! Not all poems have to rhyme. Keep brainstorming and revising, and this fabulous concept could turn out to be an even more fabulous poem.

- Abigail

D: ahh I did do that! Yes, I know I trapped myself, but I tried to make it work. Thanks for the advice though. Very much appreciated.