But in truth, I’m more like the pale little blue chair. There, but no one cares.
I am not the focal point of the photo.
And I am okay with that, but sometimes I want to be seen and heard and not care what the outcome or judgment may be thrown at me.
All I know is that I want to be true to myself so that I will be in the front or the back, but I will know my worth doesn’t matter if others see me, but that I see me.
still and be one with all that is around you is hard for us
But if we could be as still as a bird on a flower
would we ever deeply miss certain things in life?
Or would we see what we are missing and find a way to make it a part of our lives
These are the questions that run through my mind as I am still as I wait for my dog to stop sniffing everything I can move again.
But still a part of me wishes to be still and just enjoy the things that make my life great and peaceful and at the same time forget about what others have to say.
And just live my life the way it should be, for at the end of the day I will always have to live with myself but everyone else only gets to see a few pieces of me.
I didn’t realize at the time what a gift learning poetry would be.
Not that all the different types stayed with me but the ability to write and let out my emotions and feelings.
It would stick with me as my poetry has grown over the years.
The one who taught me poetry still is a woman I admire.
I know because of that class I found my voice even if that is all others will know.
At least I know I was heard and that I believed in myself and my work when it was all said and done.
Now my love for poetry is so much more vital than ever before, and it’s the one thing that feeds my craving to write and create something that leaves me wanting more and to continue to get better.
To think of being behind a screen with the possibility of others watching
still makes me nervous even though I am alone and others will see
but in the moment, why can’t I be brave enough to stand my ground and look straight ahead?
The um’s come out to play as if the memories of public speaking class are erased from my mind.
But it’s not, and the um’s come more than I like, for I am too nervous, so I don’t pause and collect myself, or maybe I should have thought about what I have to say or do.
But I know the truth no matter how much I practice, public speaking will always be my enemy one way or another.