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?