Scared …

With each fallen dream,
I am scared to try again,
scared to find the pain;
my heart is full of scars,
how to reach for the stars?

Each time I fail to fly,
I fail a dream in her eyes,
yet I don’t pay the price.

As far as they now seem,
how long flies this dream?
how far does hope gleam?


Shared with Poetic Asides (Day 3, Scary Poem).


(’12, Nov 03)

Poetry & writing to me are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

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