Angst gnaws at me,
but it drives me to create.
To try and share a beauty I see in words.
Then the doubt tries to tear it down.
Does anyone out there care?
Or am I wasting my time?
Is my vision in your mind?
Or am I screaming into the hurricane?
Questions burning inside.
Will the storm destroy me?
Or can I conquer the storm?
So much noise and chaos and carnage.
The world is overwhelming.
Yet I want to be more.
To make scenes and inspire.
I write and write and write again.
It helps to get the feelings out.
The feelings of doubt, of shame,
of never being good enough.
It helps me to create.
To make something I can see.
The beauty in these lines.
Do you see it as well?
Or is it just more wind?
This poetry of mine,
an attempt to express,
so many things that can’t be put into words.
I don’t know you but I want you to see me.
To see the music that I see.
So I try to write,
and I hope that someone cares.
I don’t know you but I love you.
I hope you will love me too.
Constantly seeking the approval of my peers,
hoping it will make me feel complete,
when I know that it will not.
The struggle I face is inside me.
Yet I still hope you will like my music,
even when it’s sad.
It’s how I reach out to the world.
My small contribution,
to making this a better place.
Trying to turn the storm,
into beautiful music instead.
That’s why as long as I live,
you’ll find me screaming,
into the hurricane.