Writing Fraud
I’ve lost count how many
Were the times
I’ve felt like a fraud
Putting pen to paper
Fingertips to keyboard
Jamming out some ramble
Of words I barely understand
In all kinds of funny or sobering circumstance
With random texts hastily shoved together
Who am I really kidding here?!
I don’t know any better
Yet…
Writing has been seared into my veins
Makes me on rainy days sit by window panes
To muse and dream and put down my trains
Of thoughts and feelings
Soaking in the power of phrasings
Taking me to places I wouldn’t otherwise go
Green meadows
Lofty castles
Even a rundown block
In the old ghetto
Writing is my lifeline
To make sense of this crazy world
When things get too much and
My nerves are about to flay
And unfurl
It’s true there are times
I feel adrift
Like a paper boat down a rapid stream
Not knowing if my writing
Makes any sense or should even be seen!
In short. A fraud
Yet…
Fraud or not, write on I must
It keeps me loose when all else feels taut
Helping my inner voice to come forth and
Flood the world with my musings
So they can decide
If my writings delight
Like a star-lit summer night
Or if my writings deceive
Like a scammer a thief
Or if my writings are just plain boring!
No matter
Cos…
Writing is breathing for
This old bloke
I’ll write and write
Even if it makes me broke
Even if it sounds less woke and more croak
I
Will
Write.
