My Monday Metrical Musings #155

table lamp on nightstand and painting on wall

These words are mine

Sitting alone
In my dark little room
I wrote and wrote
Spinning my humble little loom

Of words and lines
No one else’s just mine
Fearing they will live and die
Never seeing the bright blue sky

For all my life I’ve lived
Believing what the world
Says about my voice
That it needs to sound like theirs

Who was I to think I’m good enough
Who was I to think I’m witty enough
Who was I to think I’m attractive enough
To have viewpoints scribbled down to be read or heard?

I believed them, these dissenters
Ever eager to make me feel small
I wanted desperately to please them
And so I submitted and retreated

Into my little shell
Afraid to write or speak out loud
I thought if I just kept my head down
They would let me move about

Freely like I’m one of them
Accept me cos I accepted their ways
So these words of mine faded
Disappeared without a trace

Until now.

Now I’m not afraid of you anymore
You who told me I’m not good enough
Unless I talked like you
Wrote like you
Walked like you
Thought like you
Behaved like you

I think it’s time you listened
You read
You walked
A distance wearing my threads
Living in my skin
Understanding who I am
My unique offering

I won’t hold back
I’ll give as good as I get
No more buried under your rubble
I’ll be speaking up I won’t fumble

So brace yourself
For what’s about to come
You hypocrite
In your masquerade
Step aside
No more blocking my stride

For I’ve a lot of catching up to do
With fewer tomorrows than
yesterdays to groom
I’m going to step out of
my dark little room
I’m going to spin and spin
On my humble little loom

I’m going to write
By golly, I’m going to write
Cos do you know
Do you know
Do you know
This is my

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