Dear everything,
You think you've got me beat don't you?
Clenched up in that fear- filled -fist.
I can barely breathe or dare believe that there is anything or anyone out there.
I nearly
quit.
The creative spark just wouldn't light.
Put out by doubt ,what-if's and nothing- will- come-of- this.
But I will turn.
And you will burn-
up.
Everything is for grabs.
A whisper can be a shout.
I have fallen a bit,
But I am not out
I am scared of everything.
But I won't be
BEAT.
Keep me going.
R x