I Still Have More to Say

My Poemsi Didn’T Know If I Would Read My Poems Written So Many Years Ago Each One A Tiny Slice Of Me Revealed. I Was Afraid They Were Too Personal Too Unimportant Too Boring. But My Friends Liked Them They Supported Me. I Read Four. No One Else Has Ever Heard My Poems Or Encouraged Me To Write. Shall I Begin To Write Again?And Spend The Cold Wet Winter Months Probing For Deeper Feelings? Rousting Out Secrets Hidden From Analysis. What Will I Find By Searching My Soul? Answers? Or Just More Questions? Or Maybe A Spirit Needing Sunlight And Words Dreaming About A World Without Pain And A Life Without Anger.