Few days ago i came across someone who call herself a poet with millions of followers praising her words
I was surprised at how she is so popular, and i started to think that it is not the words but more like the look
The words are not deep… are not eloquent… are basic
I remembered my fear of showing my words to the world, despite the support i had from the few who read them… those who said that my words make them think and dream and feel
And now i a m facing this question: What did i do with my words, with my talent to weave a state of mind felt by the heart and nourish the soul?
Nothing
Am i lazy? Or i am just afraid of rejection?
I keep telling myself what can ever happen? It wont be worst than burying my dream
I always dreamed of traveling and writing
This is my dream, this is what i want to do
And this is how i want my life to be from now on
My main problem am not a social media girl and I don’t know how to promote my words like others do… i am totally in the dark
In this world, it is to enough to write… in the middle of the writers’ tsunami i will simply be lost
I have to put a flashlight on top of my words to be seen
And I don’t know how to do that
It is a dielamm
It is an obstacle, a barrier, a lock
And i need to find the key
My strange idea for today
I am a sleuth trying to find the key
