It’s fall and I suppose I need to get back to writing.
I’m not a poet, but every now and then I write something that sounds like poetry. I imagine it written on a big canvas.
She was mysterious
Thinking of things she could have
If only she would have
Thought a little less
Pushed herself under
Peeled back one more layer
Took something deep into her heart
And let it loose
Gave it freedom
If only she might have
Been a little less strong
A little more vulnerable
And in the end she became those anyway
Who she had been designed to be
Because she wasn’t willing to go on her own
The turn of fate
Dealt its own hand.
And then I imagine another big canvas that says
KEEP GOING KEEP WRITING – KEEp PainTING keep on. GO>!
Sometimes you have to get knocked down, knocked back, knocked under to save your own life.