Tired
To write…
Displaying all thoughts on said topic,
Before criticism
And before praise.
To write...
One must have a voice,
Mine has long been silenced
Of its truths.
To relentlessly try…
The subconscious decision to strive and improve
In all efforts taking place.
From where
May my voice return?
From a society
That taught me only the “right” things to say.
Be original.
Be yourself.
Maybe instead of trying,
I can just be.
Just once in the world,
To truly see
How many times
Has someone told me
I must become her?
What if the appearance of this girl
Ends the most creative act of my life,
The act of creating myself?
It is easy to write
When one is inspired,
But how about
When one is continually tired?
Something wrong with this poem?
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