I don’t know what I write.
It all just flows through this pencil,
Out from my head.
I don’t will it to come, though,
It just happens.
Once the pencil hits this pad
It’s like Apollo possesses me;
Transferring his thoughts through my hands,
As he does through his finger on the lire,
Though, that gift he doesn’t give to me.
But this I write without a tainted mind,
But a tainted heart.
These are now my words,
Not the words of anybody else.
My heart longs to get things out,
Feelings, which have been locked in.
Before I could know how I felt
And maybe just not know how to say it.
To put my thoughts into words
Is harder than it seems, almost impossible.
Here he goes again
Opening up my soul.
Why does he choose to do this now?
When I could have used him before
It mattered then,
Now nobody needs to know.
So I wish for all
To leave me alone.
I have to deal with this on my own.
Stay up there,
I’ll find my own way.
May it be quick, or long,
The journey is mine.
Leave me on my way
I don’t need you anymore.
Though it was good to filter out,
For overload was foreseen.
You may help, only when I’m at the end.
No sooner
Nor later
But not now either.

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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

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