Not about you

I write of that
which comes to mind.

Sometimes it's fiction
most of the time
the story's mine.

I write about good times
but usually the bad.

I submit them here
where those with eyes
peer into my life.

I speak of days past
releasing my inner self.

The last  few months
I have been quite sad
missing my dad.

Some of my poems
touch on those times.

while others, take me away.

Now I know all my work
is not very good, pheraps neither am I.

For every hundred days
there may be one that I smile
I'll write it here.

Then Neopoet will know
I still get off the floor.

So those that I know
as you read my poems
do not question me.

So you think about her?
or is it about me?

Before you open your mouth
and attack with your words
my release, my therapy.

This place that I hide
to get things off my mind.

It's not about you, it's for me.