As a new author, I stand before you,
An endless sea of words to view,
What I write must be valid, must be true,
What truth to write, I wish I knew.
Pen in hand, slightly above a page,
I must perform, as I have taken the stage,
Paper still blank, cursor still blinking,
As each minute passes, I sit there thinking.
Minutes, hours, and days pass by,
Despaired, distressed, I look up to the sky,
The clock starts to scream, tick tock, tick tock,
Alas, to my reflection, I stare, I mock.
But wait, I tell myself and take a deep breath,
And hold on to my dream, well before its death,
A sip of tea, from my favorite cup,
As I recall my promise, that I will never give up.
Many have stood where today I stand,
And have written wonders with their own hands,
This journey once started has no end,
Where knowledge, experience and wisdom are best of friends.
Finally, thoughts and words come to mind,
Ideas for now, yet to be defined,
And I have a passion to grow, a passion to evolve,
And there are problems out there that this passion may solve.
To what do I owe this newfound light?
A Blessing received from an Angel in flight?
I can ponder, I can wonder, all day, all night,
But time I shall not waste, I will fight, I will write!
(Like poetry? Check out 150 Most Famous Poems)
