How could I know what I felt was so wrong
in the eyes and the minds of so many?
My intuition felt sharp, the longing so strong,
doubting moments, I couldn't find any.
The desire had a purity of its own making,
filling my veins with the power to move.
No second thoughts in the steps I was taking,
motions syncopated within their own groove.
I had a blessed mission, a goal to fulfill,
believe that you can with clarity sublime.
Much as Poe anointed the page with his quill
what I attempted shouldn't be labeled a crime.
Inscribing pure emotion on a barren white page
should be cathartic, absolving the heart of its pain.
Freeing the hurts and releasing the rage
needn't brand the writer as clinically insane.
Not all who mark time are lost, a different route
they may choose to get where they’re going.
Their feelings are both genuine and absolute,
the heart adds the required zest and the glowing.
So, when you go back and read over my words
consider the source from where they've been drawn.
Perhaps the scenario won’t ring quite so absurd
now that my demons have escaped with the dawn.
Submitted for the Just For The Love Of It PHRASE Challenge
'believe that you can'
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