I may never write like Oscar Wilde,
I may never have half as much brilliance as he, I may never sell a single piece of art, moving an entire group of broken people. I don't know if a single moment of my life will be mentioned in some footnote of some historically important book. I'm not sure I feel worthy of what I have already. I really never know where to begin. Do I explain this my life until this moment, where ink meet paper and words begin to flow? Do I simply introduce myself and go from there? Who will read these words? Will anyone? Friend or foe? Will they see these words as nothing but a feeble attempt to find some clarity and peace o fmind or perhaps something more profound? Perhaps I don't need any answers. Perhaps none of that is necessary. Perhaps all I need are my thoughts, an ink-filled pen and time, time to let my thoughts catch fire. This is a poem I wrote when I was a teenager, unsure of where I would end up in life and afraid I wouldn't make a difference at all.
0 Comments
|
Leia Marie GoseWhen I started writing, it was poetry. I channeled the immense pain I felt into the written word. Some poems are sad and depressing while others are full of love and life. Poetry has always been a way for the human mind to express the truth of a soul. ArchivesCategories |