F**k poems, this is the mind waking up, from a long dead sleep.

A year ago I was going to start school as a writer, and give it a shot. I didn't qualify for financial aide, my life took a route that I did not expect. I gave up on writing...............

I have been sleeping for a year.
Not one note has been plucked by these fingers.
Not one poetic thought has emerged, and I am more sad than ever.
I silenced the poet inside, because I feared that I was not good enough to be a poet.
An now I have had a epiphany, I decided that I was not going to care about these thoughts.
After all i never have cared about who reads or who even likes what I write.
I was thinking about becoming a writer, and i was drowned out by the facts of a million people trying to become the thing.
An then my thoughts were cut down by the fact that i don't have the money to become one.
Writing is free, hell it's free here, throwing out my bad grammar is free! Just because a million people won't get to see my writing dosen't mean that few will not enjoy it, and even if they don't I won't care anyways.
This is apart of me. Every letter that falls from my fingers onto this screen.

Who F*****g cares about what I think or you think.
Lets write.

Author's Note

Write what you want to write, stop carring what everyone else is going to think.
I'm pretty sure Shakespear, or Frost didn't give 2 shits what most people thought about them.