The muse has no hushing, My voice needs no shushing, A baby boomer scribbling, At my brain, muse nibbling, Cool to create, Thoughts I relate, While world is yawning, I write in the morning, Verbose or terse, My muse here in verse!
It’s not a process I’m going through Letting go of you It’s more like a quest To find the will to settle for less An admission To myself that I am the less Isn’t easy to find I guess
A self betrays It dances through the maze A sly saboteur within our core Destroying dreams we once held dear
It whispers doubt, it fuels our fears Tempting us with wasted years A saboteur we cant evade For in ourselves, its roots are laid
But hope still flickers, a steadfast flame A chance to rise and break the chain Embrace our flaws, learn to forgive And self-sabotage, we shall outlive
I need to overcome this habit of self sabotage. I've faced that mirror so many times the cracks have made me bleed enough.