Self-Doubt
My ink steadily fades
Ideas remain not sown
Wish I could steal Henry's pen
His friends called him “well-known”.
My locutions are extravagant
But it is not as close as Loi’s
Wish I could touch people’s lives
His pen brings incredible joy!
My silence was a bad experience
What if my pen was too honest?
Would I do better than Corazon?
No, I can’t give that a promise.
I’m old for spilling insecurities
So I wish I could get a new pen
Perhaps as free-spirited as Juv
There I’ll write my poems once again.
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