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Poem Three: An anxious revelation. Short poem. |
| A Writer's Fear It comes from the pain buried deep inside, Birthed from Hell, but with grace it collides. And fuses into something so perfect in flaw, Dare anything, anywhere, ever be so raw. I grasp tight, and hold on to it while it lasts. Yet it always slips and drops so fast. As the pain inside is met with love so fair, I worry so, the perfect flaw will lose my care. But alas, my worry is a sign from God above, That my anguish too is birthed from love. And so I worry not, that the day will come, When I finally lose all my worries, and then some. |