Neomie Da Costa 1995
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Feeling the fear Of being one of many. Not liking to be just any Person in a room packed With people like me. Afraid to recite The words I write. Scared of criticism. Hungry for a witticism. Afraid to face The empty space On the page And the rage It reflects in me. I just don't see Why the words which in the past Have come to me so thick, so fast Are so illusive, absent, rare - That I'd never DARE With my self-doubt To read them out! |
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