I wish to speak, and yet

I am afraid.

Do I yet dare to open up my heart,

And say the things that press upon my mind,

Opening myself to ridicule,

Knowing that laughter may be my only reply?

 

Or suppose I say it wrong,

And what I mean is clouded by what I say,

And as I speak I see disapproval

Lurking in the eyes of the people

Whose approval I long to obtain?

 

Instead, I find a pen,
Or let my fingers play over the keys,

And what I think finds expression in the written word.

 

I open up my heart,

Emotions tumble out,

I write what I could never say

Aloud.

 

Peace comes as I write;

And I think perhaps,
Someday,

My writing may be found,

And my thoughts may find an echo
In another’s soul
That will reverberate on

And on

Forever. . . .