The angst gnaws at me,
but it drives me to create.
To try and share a beauty I see in words.
Then the doubt tries to tear it down.
Does anyone out there care?
Or am I wasting my time?
Is my vision in your mind,
or am I screaming into the hurricane?
So much noise, and chaos, and carnage.
The world is overwhelming.
But I want to be more,
to create scenes and inspire.
I write and write, and write again.
It helps to get the feelings out.
The feelings of doubt, of shame,
of never being good enough.
It helps me to create.
To make something I can see.
I hope others can see it also.
I think it’s beautiful, but too sad too.
This poetry of mine.
An attempt to express,
so many things that can’t be put in to words.
Is it music to you or more wind?
I don’t know you but I want you to see me,
to see the music that I see,
so I try to write,
and I hope that someone cares.
I don’t know you but I love you.
I hope you will love me too.
Funny that I can love strangers but not myself.
That’s the toughest thing for me to do.
So I seek the approval of my peers,
in hopes that it will make me complete,
but I know that it will not.
The struggle I face is inside me.
I hope you will like my music.
Even if it’s sad.
It’s how I reach out to the world.
It’s how I try to find my peace.