A Writer’s Fears
My own words intimidate me
Afraid to pick up the pen and write
Scared of what the scribbles will read.
Thoughts pile up in my mind at night
unable to stop the flow.
I cannot stifle these words that
rattle and steep within my brain any longer.
They're within me intended to come out.
Somehow, they must find paper and a voice.
Like Frankenstein's monster, these inanimate thoughts
need breath and life
and only I can free them.
The longer I wait, the stronger the pull
on my gut that I'm missing something.
That part of who I am is locked away,
the pen in my hand the key.
Be bold, be brave, let your light shine.
These words and God's light inside me
are gifts meant to be shared.
If I seal it off, I will wilt.
Part of myself will die without use
And the part that remains will always wonder
What would have happened if I had tried?