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Apr 29
It does bother me greatly
That my plights might be,
Shunned, misunderstood, ignored,
Or that my words are inert,
They will not, can not, touch the reader.

I am inherently scared my poetry only means to me,
And yet, I find some tiny shard
In all of my worry,
That says it wouldn't matter anyway,
It's okay to only write for me.
Idk why I am so scared. I did my seniot art exhibit where I merged sculpture and poetry together. Everyone seemed so impressed by my works and have told me my works have made them feel...I just still feel uneasy.
Written by
CautiousRain  22/F/USA
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