Crossing Bridges

bridge

Take a chance, take a step
break your mold
nothing ventured nothing gained
just do it
Words.
true perhaps
but sometimes much easier to write
or wear on a tee shirt
than to live
to cross that bridge requires courage
because a mere single step
must lead to another
until you are swaying in the middle
the alligators are gathering underneath
and you are asking yourself
why you ever left the stable ground

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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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One Response to Crossing Bridges

  1. PigLove says:

    great! XOXO – Bacon

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