Did I give up in those moments
When the waves crashed over me,
The biting cold gnawed at my ear
And the wind sang songs so sickly sweet,
I thought the world had run out of letters?
Did I throw myself away
Like some discarded, empty wrapper
To forever be abandoned on the roadside
Never decaying, never leaving, until a petty criminal
Picked me up as part of community service?
Did I surrender to an onslaught of criticism
With no physical cause, nobody I could blame
But myself, and my mind, which encouraged
Me to shrink down into obscurity, so often sought
By the stories I never thought good enough to tell?
Somehow, I held on, though many times
I dreamed of the beauty of my non-existence,
The paradise of eternal sleep over life,
And squeezed through the closing doors of promise
That predicted stories worth writing again one day.