I used to think that I
Was but a bothersome fly,
And perhaps less important
Than a crack in cement.
That what I said didn't matter,
So why mouth it?
That if I left I'd be forgotten,
So why visit?
I felt guilty with each gift or praise
Each accolade my doubt did raise.
Could it be that I
Was nothing more than shy?
Perhaps a little fearful
Of your discriminating eye?
Today I'm still working on it
Thanks to you I'm leaving the pit.
Prompt inspiration: Poets United Thursday Think Tank