Sometimes I think
I’m not any good at what I write,
It’s a struggle to remind myself
It’s not the reason why I strive,
I hope that my writing makes another smile
Or maybe think a little;
Maybe even that I am wise,
I can’t lie;
My heart soars high
With the little sympathy I receive;
The little compliments might get to me,
But never enough that I can forget
The doubts in which I hold myself.
©️Jana Pelzom 2022
