She stands alone, and regrets it
But she knows and accepts she begets it
She crafted the cage; she’ll take now her wage
She’ll die alone: Fate has said it.
Maud Lynn
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"When I am writing, I am trying to find out who I am…" –Maya Angelou
Writer In Retrospect 
Great poem, Maude! ❤ Take care, Cheryl
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Well, thanks. Did you like the pun?
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You mean Maud lin? Yes, very amusing!
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😄
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Woah!
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☺
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Everyone says that they regret being at that point. Really? Is the alternative that much better? Am I just not there yet, then?
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If you feel that all you do is hurt people and/or frighten them away, you begin to wonder if maybe you’re a variable that the great equation of life would be better off without…
Though, I don’t believe in 0%. I figure there’s always a chance for things to turn around — so, why not see? Admittedly, however, some times are far easier than others…
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The first paragraph really made me sad. I felt your words.
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Clever, Rachel, though it probably describes you a little more that I’m comfortable admitting. Yes, it does seem to be somewhat reflective. Well, of course it does, as you draw such lamentations from your soul.
Still, into your life every day wander those who weren’t here for the first part, the begetting. We know only the Rachel who lives now, beyond the bars. You have so much to say to us, and you do. Past Rachel may have constructed the cage, and that’s what it confines, The Past.
The only way it’ll hold you now is if you can go back in time and undo all you’ve accomplished the last couple years. You can’t, because, as everyone knows, time travel is impossible. Yes, Christopher Lloyd has been telling fibs again.
Thus Sang Gwen.
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Fun fact? Lynn is my middle name. Or Lynne… I don’t recall if my parents ever settled that…
But anyway, I fear more that it’s a potential future. No time travel involved, except maybe the old fashioned kind. That said, cages from the past can remain for future visitation, however rusty the bars may get. Hmm… Unless explosives are involved. Or maybe a wrecking ball? Sadly, I don’t have either of those handy.
I’m rambling, I think. Suffice to say, it’s a recurring fear that I’m whiny and useless and will inevitably be alone; that my future is to be a villain, bitter and cynical and sad. But I’m not quite there yet. And I don’t ever have to be.
And by the way, who’s Gwen? I don’t think that’s a reference I’m familiar with.
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Sang Gwen. Sanguine. See what I did there?
Don’t have a wrecking ball, Rachel? Very few of us do, actually. This is why we collaborate, though. Let’s work together and see what we’ll create.
Your worries have a real basis, yet they reflect fleeting moments, not ongoing reality. Sure, certain things raise alarms – indeed, we all come equipped with fire/sprinkler systems; they’re Code – yet more often, you see beyond the troubles, and you realize there’s still much for you to find.
This, mind you, is just what you accomplish on your own. It alone should be enough to make you grin. Then, you add the others you’ve called to your side, and your inventory burgeons. We came just for the poetry, Rachel, yet we stay for you.
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Oh my gosh… I can’t believe I didn’t catch that; That’s a good one. We’ll, uh, blame it on the time.
I’m afraid I have nothing to give you for the rest of your words, but a smile (or, if you prefer, “grin”), and a heartfelt “thanks.”
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Great beat, and message.
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Thanks.
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