I am not yet ready to write this poem,
Yet, knowing this, I cannot refrain.
An unnoted thought may forever escape,
Never to visit again.
Someday I may understand these words,
Learn the craft, the wiles, and the way
To place beautifully the beauty
I see, but cannot say.
Perhaps in the future the ageless barriers
Will decay and slough from my eye
And mind, and I shall speak only the truth,
And not the fearful lie.
Until that day shall I hold my tongue?
Stop up my mouth with shame?
Build new defenses and promise to be good?
Dare not own my name?
Though unready, I take pen in hand
To write these words and this line.
I know no answer lies within
But the voice, at least, is mine.