There was a page
Full of words
That said everything
That said nothing

My thoughts were unclear
My writing was cloudy
It made no sense
But so much
I understood

That poem was a failure
Ironically, it spoke of failure.
I tried to force ink onto paper
And in return received a
Mess of a masterpiece
A reflection of who I am

I had abandoned my work
It screams to be finished.
So finally
I come out of my shell
I try to undo knots
I couldn't untangle before

Because in a few days time
I will have answers
To questions I've always asked
And I'm not sure I am ready
But I am standing now
Or at least,
I will soon.

Soon,
I will stand tall
I will be stepping...
But where will my feet land?