Stained. (19)

Img_0385unicornby Michelle Seyner21 Jan 2014

When I put my pen to paper
and I'm determined to just write
I wander, sometimes waver
'cause doubt will join the ride.
Poets far greater than I
- I can hear their voices still -
used words to reach the sky
better than I ever will.
Maybe solemn silence suits me
when my words won't yet take wing
and the meter just eludes me
'cause it's a tricky little thing.
Tiny poet that I am, thus confronted with my fears
left with very little words, and paper stained with tears.

January 19 2014.
Michelle Seyner.