Three Parts

I was a child,
Reckless and wild.
Free to create,
Love or hate.
 
I am unknown,
A mystery of my soul.
A part of past,
A mold to be cast.
 
I will be…
Me?
Cracked, but Strong,
Will to carry on.
A writer with ink,
Who refuses to sink.
A wife with a dream,
A hope that gleams.
 
I mean, who knows?
I feed my fires,
Hold on to my wishes,
Cherish my desires.
 
But I don’t know
More than anyone else.
I’ll fight to that future image,
And I will see for myself.

Looking For An Answer

What I really wanted to ask was,

Do you believe in me?

I know I’ve asked before,

But I feel so empty.

I want this dream so badly.

It stands so far away.

You tell me to keep fighting,

But I only seem to stray.

If I don’t push forward,

There’s only possibilities.

Yet this hole grows more and more,

Fraught with anxieties.

A new excuse, another tale,

To pause my future demise.

I don’t see anything else,

Yet I know I’m telling lies.

So what I really wanted to ask was,

Do you think I will succeed?

Is my dream worth fighting for?

Will you help me, please?