She wanted to be a writer
But the right words were never her own.
She wanted to share her passions
But the blending colours were too confusing.
How could she let them all assume,
Never truly understanding her words?
She wanted to be a great poet
But there was never anything new to share.
She felt afraid to give a part of herself away
So, she encased her work in an alias
And they shall never know her truth.
She will never know the value of her words
Because she keeps them tucked so close.
Her dream is to be a writer
And have the world benifit from her work.
YOU ARE READING
The Exception
PoetryI've spent so much time as the blank space among all the flashy colour and big sounds. It's not all that bad being the only calm in a sea of noise. You get to really see things. This is a poetry book. Just some stuff I've written.
