Why Do We Write Poems?
- Oct 19, 2025
- 2 min read
By Marco Zheng
Coming back from summer vacation, you feel both refreshed and faintly miserable. The break is over, the work begins again, and the hallways smell of printer ink and coffee. But the worst part isn’t the return to routine; it’s opening your phone.
There they are.
The pictures.
Turquoise oceans. Croissants by the Eiffel Tower. “Can’t believe I’m finally here!!!” written in looping fonts over sunsets.
OMG, this place is gorgeous! I want to have my wedding here
This meal looks divine!
That’s the kind of reaction your friends are expecting. But the truth is: I don’t care. I don’t want to sit through your summer-vacation Powerpoint.
This, I think, is why we write poems
Poetry is the opposite of a vacation slideshow. It’s the cleanest, most honest medium we have to share what it feels like to be alive, without forcing that feeling on anyone else. Poetry doesn’t isolate; it invites. A good poem doesn’t say look at me. It says come with me.
One of my favorite singers, Bruce Liang, has a habit of performing what I call “half and half”
songs. He sings for five minutes, then lets the band take over for another five. It’s like he knows exactly when to stop talking. He sets the air, the feeling, and then lets silence and sound do the rest. He trusts the listener to complete the story.
Good poetry works the same way. It leaves space. It hands the reader a thread and says, Here, pull on this. The music between the lines is what matters more than the lines themselves.
Gallery Photos:
Left: By Alexis Minchella on Unsplash
Right: By Chen Mizrach on Unsplash
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