by Melodie Ouellette
Guilt-ridden, no reason in sight.
How come I feel this way?
Will this guilt ever leave me?
Leaving a path of darkened steps,
from my home to the world.
Why do I deceive
my expectations of success?
Why doI feel the need to achieve a goal,
when I simply need to be?
I ponder, no, dread –
each step in fear of error again.
The earth beneath my feet awaits my touch,
and I anticipate its presence, too.
The crushed grass, the fallen leaves,
all I touch, I grieve.
For it will not gain life anew.
Am I a fraud, merely a performer?
Or am I a friend, a longing learner?