Poem: To Exist
July 01, 2012
I felt long removed from strains of inadequacy.
The pain of merely remaining,
Existing.
They hounded me persistently…
Perpetual to my state
Of being.
Non-being.
If I exist, I like to think it were for the love of my art,
My craft,
My drive.
But if I don’t
If I don’t, nothing may hound me again…
And that is a fate worse than the Death I seek.
