I am an author.

    In the silence of night, my typing lulls my cats to sleep.

    In the silence of night, my mind is a thousand voices.

    In the silence of night, my only thought is

    "is this enough?"

    I am an author.



    I am an author.

    My first thought in the morning is "what should I write today?"

    My first step is towards my computer.

    My first sound is the typing of my keyboard.

    I am an author.



    I am an author.

    I've walked many miles in the shoes of others.

    I've shouted, cried, loved, and sang in the voice of someone else.

    I've felt the love, so long forgotten to me, in the arms of a stranger.

    I am an author.



    I am an author.

    The blank page staring back at me is my friend.

    The blank page staring back at me is turned to black.

    The blank page staring back at me is my enemy.

    I am an author.



    I am an author.

    I am an author.

    I am...

    Am I good enough?

    Will the world ever truly hear my song?

    Or will it rest on a shelf, an unfinished symphony?

    My heart and soul, poured into a story none will ever read.

    Worlds that will live on only in my head.

    Characters only I will have known.

    Lost to the pages, found in faded ink.

    I am an author.



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