Tikija Picott
Feelings of a Reluctant Writer
by Tikija Picott
I breathe deeply
sighing in and out
as the tears corner in my eyes.
Thinking, why am I here?
Stop----
pausing to contemplate
what should be said.
”There you go again.” the voice in my mind says.
You would think
that I was just told to stand naked
in front of an audience of my peers.
But, you would be wrong.
Sighing again,
thoughts race on to some unknown destination.
See, this is so.
These words, no!
Stop again----
What is it I want to say?
Writing should flow free.
Be full of words. Be symbolic.
Pack an enormous amount of meaning.
Yet, this brain will not cooperate.
Will not produce what the heart desires.
Concise, cohesive, grammatically correct, organized words
that flow effortlessly
and covey the message of its author.
by Tikija Picott
I breathe deeply
sighing in and out
as the tears corner in my eyes.
Thinking, why am I here?
Stop----
pausing to contemplate
what should be said.
”There you go again.” the voice in my mind says.
You would think
that I was just told to stand naked
in front of an audience of my peers.
But, you would be wrong.
Sighing again,
thoughts race on to some unknown destination.
See, this is so.
These words, no!
Stop again----
What is it I want to say?
Writing should flow free.
Be full of words. Be symbolic.
Pack an enormous amount of meaning.
Yet, this brain will not cooperate.
Will not produce what the heart desires.
Concise, cohesive, grammatically correct, organized words
that flow effortlessly
and covey the message of its author.