"Just write," they say.
I try; nevertheless I fail.
Am I not meant to hold this pen,
Or soil the page with my thoughts?
Am I not allowed to express my pain,
Or share my sufferings and loss?
Am I destined for solitude
Forever in my little nook?
Do I not deserve love,
Or maybe a praise or two?
I fear I might fail.
And maybe that's a sign I'm trying.
I dream of success.
Am I insane, or do I just keep writing?