Everything seems so complicated.
Living in a world where status means everything,
And everyone wants to become someone.
I look at the recognition I've been given,
The kind words said about my creations.
I read over them,
A huge smile on my face.
A feeling lingers.
Part of me still believes that I don't deserve this.
Part of me still wonders why me, out of all people, was given a chance for recognition.
It's an artist's dream to be recognized,
And it was mine as well.
Still, it feels...wrong.
It feels like I don't deserve it.
Kind things said to me about words that flew from my heart.
Is it just luck?
Do I have any skill?
Anxiety starts to pile up,
As I hurry to fit the mold.
Any poem that misses the mark feels like a failure.
However, I am missing the point.
Being an artist isn't about whether someone sees your work.
Being an artist isn't about whether someone likes your work.
Being an artist is about creating.
So, I will continue to create.
Though I'm scared of being rejected,
I must remember that no matter how many people leave,
No matter how many people turn away,
I will always be an artist.