Ever since I joined Wattpad earlier this month.
I nust say I find myself strangled by clichés
and societal niches.
Lol, I wish this was the typical case Of writers block.
Seems like my soul's just run amok.
Writing or the art of it is inherently about thee Self.
I seem to have forgotten that.
Lost in the translation of my hopeful intentions.
In my quest for validation from my peers, and draw their cheers,
I shut my ears.
No longer privy to my soul's tears.
Maybe I better seek the validation I crave within,
For in me, I sea a pool
Endless In VAST expanse.
Endless in tides of hypnotising trance.
And yet compact, filled to the rafters with anticipation ridden, nerve tinged and red flushed faces.
Waiting for the truths I speak,
True to truth,
they are even answers even I played hide and seek for.
If successful, I will find peace. A goal I deem and dream bleak.
For I already live entrenched and engulfed in a negative cycle,
Shimmying and moonwalking out of the limelight like Micheal.
To escape your Piercing Jeers.
To escape the Splattering Of Your Tin Beers.
I Steer, CLEAR,
of the Wrenching Rot Of The Tomatoes,
For I foresaw your hate, As clearly as third eye seer.
As much as I foresaw I'd give into my fears.
" STAGE FRIGHT! "
" PERFORMANCE ANXIETY! "
YOU ARE READING
THE IMPROMPTU MANIFEST.
Poesía" SPARK!" Poems Of Utter Spontaneity. The Raw and Unfiltered Emotion Of Living Life Without Cuffs and With Your Heart On Your Sleeve. The Pushing Of Intuition Into The Everyday World. Let It Flow. Let It Flow. And Let Words Spark Life To LIFE.
