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I sit in a still, quiet room. While typing away I begin to grow weary... afraid... My hands falter, and I pause. Gazing out the window beside me I wonder, "What is the point of trying?" "How can I be so presumptuous?" "Who would possibly care about what I have to say?" A few stale moments pass, then I glance down at my notes. Pages, among pages, and pages of a world, of a single message... I smile, And open my blinds to the dazzling sunlight. For once I do not bow to what I believe, That I do not deserve to feel Happy, Or proud. I continue on. I continue on to tell the story I want to tell. I continue on to bring joy to others That I feel for myself and my work. And I hope that out there you do too.
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Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 3:43 PM UTC
Untitled
I sit in a still, quiet room. While typing away I begin to grow weary... afraid... My hands falter, and I pause. Gazing out the window beside me I wonder, "What is the point of trying?" "How can I be so presumptuous?" "Who would possibly care about what I have to say?" A few stale moments pass, then I glance down at my notes. Pages, among pages, and pages of a world, of a single message... I smile, And open my blinds to the dazzling sunlight. For once I do not bow to what I believe, That I do not deserve to feel Happy, Or proud. I continue on. I continue on to tell the story I want to tell. I continue on to bring joy to others That I feel for myself and my work. And I hope that out there you do too.
#prose#writing#inspiration#selfdoubt#growth
unknown___
Written by
unknown___
19/F/Texas
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 3:43 PM UTC
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