The bravest thing I’ve ever done
Was show my words to someone else.
From long hard birth upon the page,
Would they understand and know my heart?
Then when praise was not forthcoming,
Grave doubts of who I am crept in.
Are my thoughts just dull and boring tracts,
And show the world my ignorance?
But I should know, there is no need
For confirmation of my work,
The greatest gift to give myself
Is just enjoyment of my craft.