I hide it in jest
My beautiful mess
Smiling butterfly, my chosen mask
Writing stories is how i ask
To see me as whole
End my charade
Look past the mask
See how I'm made
This is, without exaggeration, my first poem ever. I hated it at first, like I so often hate my paintings, and yet I still work on them. How else will I ever improve?
Thanks to some help from a group of amazing people from the Poetry Workshop at @thewritersblock, I grew to love it more and more. I loved it enough to make a painting to go with it. And I don't hate that one either. In fact, I dedicated a post to it where I show you how I made it. You can find it here.
I guess that is called "letting go." They are both imperfect, but that is exactly what makes them perfect.
Big thank you to @geke, @jrswab, @steemitgraven, @sunravelme and @negativer for the amazing support and encouragement. If I forgot anyone, please forgive me. There are so many of you!
Thank you for sharing this with me.
Hugs
Tiny
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