That Sensitive Self
That sensitive self; Vested with doubt a constant companion Sat, decades before, At a desk laden with dreams And ambitions fomenting. Yearning to be set free. To chase the written word And to delve within the dreams of others. Contained within sentence and page; To read with rapacious need To learn and understand, Challenge the known and accept the different; To absorb the ideas and wisdom of others But moreover to ferment ideas within, Of the direction I wished to follow. And then to seek a path that would lead inevitable, To a place where dreams and words enjoin And craft prose succinct and tender, Or enraged and obdurate, complicit and subversive, Which held proud, yet reticent to release For fear of rejection and critique Of mocking unacceptance But now a man at last, a man I sit unburdened, unchastened The words formed and dreams realised, Sentence and page released Set free unafraid, unencumbered. Let the world judge if they wish For it is not their dream, It is mine Of men and poets? It is time. _____________________________ There comes a time when you need to let go of your writing and set it free. Write for yourself...but do not be selfish. Share your words and they shall repay you.