As I sit and I ponder on my dreams and aspirations
My mind begins to wonder as I'm hit with revelations
On my procrastination,
My lack of motivation.
I take a pause. I hold my breath.
Yet I'm still sitting here, not moving a limb,
Thinking about how my thoughts have become ever so dim
More or less dull
Perhaps I should get up rather than sit here and sulk?
But then I begin to think about what my gift
The gift of writing
The way the words are guiding,
As the flow of these words travel from my brain to my fingers
I no longer have to feel as though my body must linger
Use your gift
Find your vocation
Once you search deep within
You'll find its location.
- Author: Ruth Fadairo (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: March 20th, 2017 19:37
- Comment from author about the poem: For anyone who struggles with knowing who they are. This one is for you.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 44
- Users favorite of this poem: stephanieh1996
Comments1
We all have gifts and yours is obviously writing, keep putting those words on the page.
thank you so much!
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