Reading poems by other people

Has made me feel so small. The number of words that go into each poem, times by a million, could drown me as a tsunami would.

It’s interesting, overwhelming. The words that pass my lips would never be able to amount to anything special, or so I feel.

I feel as if I am merely deluding myself that the words I say are important, that the words everyone else say are important.

Perhaps they aren’t. But that doesn’t stop the wave from crashing down upon us.


One thought on “Reading poems by other people

  1. Your honesty here is touching. From what I have seen all creative types suffer terrible crushing intermittent waves of self doubt, like they’re no good, they’re a fraud. But some make an art of hiding it. I think it really comes down to persistence and not caring too much what other people think, just doing it anyway. If someone likes it, bonus! But don’t let anyone ever tell you that what you have to say doesn’t have any merit because if that’s true, we can all pack up and go home, every last one. Everyone’s creations have merit, even if they don’t tick all the boxes of someone else’s agreed standards, I think it is the intention that is the most important thing. It needs cradling and kidnling, not snuffing out. So keep on rockin I say.


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