The Writer Within

— — —

The Writer within

Hides her head in shame and fear

Words come forth then stop

— — —

Storylines I know

Beckon from the horizon

Leading me forward

— — —

At the cliff I stand

The rocks below would break me

Step back now; be safe

— — —

All my bravado

Cowers under the pressure

I place on myself

— — —

In this grey limbo

I waver and hesitate

And hold myself close

— — —

Perhaps I shall sit

And contemplate the silence

Within my own soul