What The Hell Can I Say?

I'm afraid to do well, to write a masterpiece
because if I do~
by chance or luck~
where will it end?
Next I'd be expected another
and another
and more
until so many words will be pulsating
in my head.
I wonder often,
what would come of me?
If I were a labeled a poet
or a writer of any kind
would I change?
Already I try  harder,
dig deeper
for something wise
that doesn't belong to my brain.
Being me, 
I write about love, death, beauty of the world
and angst.
What more can I borrow from this world...
this tiny world that I've comforted around myself.
I guess I'll have to venture out...
see the sights
and taste the cuisines
to ever give more.
Until that bravery comes to me
I'll write about what's in my little ole head
 and hope it gives you
or even myself, a feeling of familiarity...
of hope.

Copyright © 2013 Stacy J. French~Roosa

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