A Writer's Life

Living Creatively


Three people told me not to say, “I am sorry” yesterday
when all I did was state, trying to communicate,
my feelings without filter, my shout
of defiance unspoken, stifled, a token
spent when truth is polluted sin,
emotions judged negative, no way to live
a happy, happy, happy life devoid of strife –
in other words – dead, not feeling at all, unsaid
sentiment no one wants, transposed, unheard taunts
thrown away whenever I say,
“I feel guilty, sad, lonely, or bad.”

Give me life, please, without bliss,
freedom to express truth, without duress,
be it undesired, not happy, even tired –
let me speak, unmasked, the truth I seek.

me as clown


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