In this foggy swamp,
I don't know where to walk.
Every step I take seems to get me farther from my goal,
A neverending walk of endless paths that lead nowhere.
A pen gripped tightly in my hand,
Dragging my feet through the marsh.
I can feel myself beginning to sink,
A body too heavy with ideas and nowhere to put them.
Then, I saw it.
A shining light that forced the fog to bow to it,
A shining light that would not meet me.
Lifting my feet out of the marsh,
I see an opportunity rising.
Following this light,
I begin to run, wondering,
"Is this my chance?"
Thoughts of recognition and inspiration swirl through my head,
A neverending train of endless thoughts that lead somewhere.
I find the light.
Basking in what I now know as a home,
You give me the power to create.
The light of kind words,
The light of a platform to create,
The light of motivation and determination.
Sitting surrounded by fog that I hope will never reach me again,
Thank you for the opportunity to create,
And thank you for listening.
You keep the light alive,
And you keep my pen moving.
In a place where my words finally don't fall to fog,
I feel at peace.
So, thank you,
For my words and I have a home.