I was writing about the inner voice yesterday, and today, my sister sent me a poem I wrote a few years ago.
I watch the clock ticking away from day to day
My head is filled with thoughts as moments pass
I think about the part in which i play
My heart and mind are felling quite a mess
An age and name, I must be something more
Can he see beyond the outer me
I need to know and look within
I pray for an answer, who am i to be
I have begun to see the picture clear
My place and path becoming well defined
My inner voice is calling ever dear
I listen very close and i feel
The one and only, bright and shining star
My self, an open book, unique by far
He is an enigma, something something something.
As you can see I never quite finished the last sentence. But it was funny that she had this one saved from years ago. I will have to finish it, or change it. I was scared at the time I wrote this but I look back now and see it was a time of growth.
2 comments:
The poem is nice even unfinished! Actually it almost seems appropriate that it is unfinished!
Tracy
good for you. judi
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