How humorous it is to hear the opinions of those who find poetry to be “too moody.”
As if poetry only exists for love and flowers and rainbows and smiles.
It is open to that.
But it also serves as a medium for suffering and pain. Heartache. Depression. Addiction.
It the lowest point you can go, as well as the highest.
It doesn’t discriminate. It welcomes with open arms and provides comfort in all forms.
My reaction after reading an online review for a poetry book that deemed it “too moody.”