A Poets Dilemma
I used to write, and the words flowed free,
Thinking no one would read poor me;
So I posted poems and penned away,
It didn’t matter what I might say.
It felt good to be so free,
If no one understood, didn’t matter to me;
Funny or hot, memories or dreams,
I wrote what I felt, used lots of schemes.
Then I gathered a following of sorts,
People reading, I’d hear reports;
I’ve read your poems, even strangers would say,
And I began to wonder, was I was going astray?
What will they think if I write this or that,
Am I too sensual, or a silly cat?
I studies forms, and tried to write good,
Hoping I would never be misunderstood.
So the well dried up, my muse went away,
My poems were few, creativity at bay;
What did I feel, did passion remain?
Knowing I was read, I’d timidly refrain.
It’s harder to write with an audience to please,
So for some time I’ve been on freeze;
Once more I’m trying to let words flow,
To unblock the dam and see where I go.
Too much concern with what others may think,
And creativity is gone, right down the sink!
I want to succeed and for people to read,
So I’ll pretend you’re not real, and let writing proceed.
But don’t expect too much, I humbly plead!
By CheeseMaker
© 2009 CheeseMaker
(All rights reserved)
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