Confessions of a Poet

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These words just sound silly to me
Reflecting my lack of verbal fluidity
My slow, diminished mental acuity
Laid out in ink for the world to see

Yes, you could say I think they show
My childish personality, shallow soul
My simplistic view of how life should be
And how we should just be more loving

I feel that I sound foolish, that my style
of expression is unoriginal and mulish
like a toddler running around, crying,
“Mommy, I don’t know how to do this!”

and no matter what I say or how I say it
there’s no knowing how you’ll interpret
or if I’m conveying the purest expression
Of my individuality, my soul’s extension

I’m scared of what your reaction holds in-tow
As my pride is chained upon the gallows of
need for acceptance, acknowledgment, validation
to be known as having respectable qualifications

I’m scared of your response because I know
How I react to others’ creative little shows


more by A. M. LAINE

photograph by Dirk-Jan van Roest


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