"When I am writing, I am trying to find out who I am…" –Maya Angelou
I shall tell a tale, I shall
Of a princess and her crown:
The crown just went about its day;
The princess thought it beat her down
As these tales are wont to go,
The princess sought advice
From witches three, who rhymed everything,
And always said it twice
So the witches said “dear girl, dear girl
Was never more a fool?
Was never more a fool or churl
In all this kingdom’s rule
In all this kingdom’s rule, we swear
Never have we seen
The crown that put you on to wear
No, never have we seen!”
Where is there to go
When the blind see more than me?
Someone must step forward
But here we hang upon each other’s sleeves.
There is nowhere to go
When every step leads to a fall;
There is no home for us
But the darkness that we bring.
What’s begun must find its end
However long you play pretend
And all that comes to find you since
Is inevitably the consequence
I can’t be the same for everyone,
And that’s something no one understands
As they tell me just to be myself
And give the facts within my hands.
But the truth is how it is presented,
And I don’t know which way is right;
All I know is that I’m drowning,
And my instinct is always flight.
I still don’t know the answer,
Though I’ve provided more than one;
They shift in shape and form,
And no contender yet has won.
I can settle on manipulation,
Or youthful naivete;
But the truth has many iterations,
And among them is a darker me.
So many things have I put off
And when asked why, how can I answer?
My reasoning would make most people scoff;
Others deal with things like debt and cancer,
While I have just my mocking fear
And the shelter I have always known.
Whatever troubles there were in the year
Can always be let go,
And eyes shut to the responsibility
That I know should be mine.
But there was a question asked of me
That ought be answered while there is still time:
I have spent so very long, I think,
Living in the fragile state I have,
I see the world as on the brink,
Sure to fall at just a feathered jab.
These little things are telling me
To stretch out my hand;
So I retract it desperately
And retreat at each demand.
The world is full of threads all interwoven
The world is full of stories intertwined
The world is full of people broken
And those pretending not to mind
The world is filled with dreams awoken
And nightmares shared and shared in kind
The world is filled with people choking
On what others meant to leave behind
The world is tied with strings unbidden
The world is chained on either side
We vainly cut and burn and begin
To see our souls can never be untied.
I had another dream of you
I was the villain once again
I was letting someone down
But you showed up, and then
Gave to them the happiness
That I couldn’t provide
I should’ve done the same for you…
But all I see is the divide.
I could set the blame for my existence
Squarely at your feet;
Or my life in its present instance
I could christen your defeat.
Or I could claim my turning point
Was somewhere over there,
And blame the careless wanderer
Who had no fire I could share.
I could fit upon the scales of justice
The world, by degrees,
And blame my failures on this:
The whip and bended knees.
But for all the blame that could’ve been,
There’s nothing to debate.
Others may bring suffering;
Only I can change my fate.
Am I supposed to tell you what I’m thinking
When what I’m thinking is a sin?
Am I supposed to be so very honest
When everything is caving in?
I have seen the price of honesty,
And no commandment not to lie;
Perhaps what I’m supposed to do
Is leave the truth of me to die.
***
It should be noted that I am one who has, on occasion, blurted things out without properly weighing them first; and not as a result of any pressure, or what people told me I was “supposed” to do, but because I personally feel it is right to be truthful. It’s just not always smart.
Writer In Retrospect 