I find myself doubting,
wondering what to do with this blank sheet.
Looking for ideas, “what do I do”.
when it comes to me.
A poem.
The curving letters the poets of yore inscribe,
make me tremble in awe-ful wonder,
glimpsing the possibilities of this one slate,
I start spilling my bubbling thoughts,
pouring my everything onto this page.
And I find myself thinking,
maybe this time,
maybe this time, I wont be disappointed.