I AM ME, DEAL WITH IT

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The burden of whispers, the sting of sidelong stare,
A constant chorus chanting, “Why are you like that, to dare?”
To laugh too loud, to dream too wide, to wear your heart on sleeve,
To dance upon the cobblestones, refusing to believe
That conformity’s a crown, a shackle cast in doubt,
That dimming inner sunshine is what life’s all about.

No more, I shout into the wind, the tears a cleansing rain,
No more the shrinking violets, the bowing to the plain.
I am GME, a tapestry of quirks and vibrant hues,
A symphony of passions, refusing to be subdued.

My laughter cuts like diamonds, my tears a glistening pearl,
My dreams unfold like nebulae, a universe unfurled.
My every pulse a rhythm, a melody unsung,
My very being anthems, on freedom’s banner flung.

Let judgment turn to wonder, let scorn ignite applause,
Let ignorance fade, replaced by understanding’s laws.
For GME is not a burden, but a badge of glorious light,
A torch held high, defying conformity’s endless night.

So spread your wings, dear soul, and let your colors show,
Let every step a canvas, where vibrant truths may flow.
Embrace the laughter echoing, the whispers turned to cheers,
For GME is you, untethered, conquering all your fears.

And when the world asks, “Why are you like that?” with curious eyes,
With head held high you’ll answer, “This is how a phoenix flies.”

The Hearth

Photo by David Boozer on Pexels.com

In hearth’s embrace, a symphony ignites,
Where whispers turn to pops, and shadows dance.
Each log a stave, in amber hues it writes,
A crackling tale of ancient circumstance.

The flames, like tongues, lick high with hungry glee,
Devouring air, consuming what they hold.
From seasoned oak, a sigh on the wind’s free plea,
As embers rise, their embers spun as gold.

And in that glow, a thousand stories bloom,
Of knights and dragons, battles fought and won.
Of lovers’ trysts beneath the harvest moon,
And secrets whispered ’til the day is done.

The warmth expands, a cloak against the night,
A haven built of heat and whispered lore.
The crackling fire, a beacon burning bright,
To chase away the fears that lurk at the door.

So gather close, let troubles melt and fade,
Beneath the spell of this enchanting pyre.
For in its heart, a solace is displayed,
A crackling poem, fanned by pure desire.

Indie Writer Advice (Indie Writer Series #4)

Every writer has their own unique style and approach to writing. Focusing on word counts can lead to feelings of inadequacy or pressure to conform to someone else’s standards. Instead, focus on the quality and impact of your writing. Write from the heart and let your words flow naturally. Remember, writing is a journey and every writer has their own path to follow. So, don’t compare yourself to others and enjoy the process of creating something truly unique and special.