Pages with ink seem to be what
I fear most of late,
I fear as I promised myself that would contain my words one day,
Days seem to pass though I have nothing to show for all this time wasted.
Ideas I have a plenty,
Yet putting them down on paper is the issue
what if its not at per ?
What if its not right?
what if it’s not what is expected of me?
This ‘what ifs’ drown me to a point of disability.
I do not trust my words
Nor the paper I write on but am taking a chance and putting them down.
I scared of Judgment but as part of life I will face it and take it astride because standing still is no longer an option for me.