Just Me

A poem without filters –

Of me.           

No filters of time, or rhyme, of spllng.

Written, like my life, at my own pace.

Written for release, for pleasure.

Written at the speed of my mind, but limited -

Limited by the speed of my fingers.

Life is like that sometimes,

Your mind goes a million miles an hour, but somehow

It just never seems to come out just right.

My life is like that – so many good ideas,

Ideas to change the world,

But limited – by overthinking, by trying to do it “just right”

There is no “just right,”

But there is “just me.”