I was a dramatic teenager. I can admit that now (and hear my mom cackling at me for admitting the truth). This is evidenced by my poems in an old journal that I wrote during my high school years. Let me clarify: this was not a “journaling” journal. This green notebook, with my mom’s name scratched off of the front, was strictly for poems of my own creation and song lyrics that struck a proverbial chord in my oft melancholy heart.
As proof of my melodramatic angst, I present to you a smattering of poem titles. Be forewarned, you may work up a tear or two.
Then I Smiled
To Meet You
All The Time
Forget Me Not
And the epically titled: Lonesome Tears (I know, I know…it’s amazing.)
Looking back through these poems, some of them are painful to read because of the cliché rhymes and lack of originality. That said, this was a pivotal time in my life that I felt like I was a wallflower, destined to be ignored by the male species in the public high school I attended. As an adult, I understand that I was somewhat of a pariah because I was known as a…
I did, in fact, have a couple of short term boyfriends. However, I had a truckload of crushes. That left fertilized ground for the green journal of longing. In turn, I wrote and poured my feelings onto paper. Now I hope that none of these poems will ever see the light of day (EVER), but they fulfilled a need in me to seek paper to pen.
Every artist starts with a spark: finger-color painting masterpieces, lop-sided clay bowls, fledgling stories that ripped off a Cinderella plotline. Did you know that Vincent Van Gogh only sold one painting during his lifetime and more than 900 paintings were not sold or made famous until after his death? Or that J.K. Rowling was rejected by the first twelve publishers she submitted to? Often, there is failure before the goal is reached.
I felt the need to share this with my readers (all twelve of you) to encourage you, no matter where you are at in your life. If you are facing a job change, writing a book or faced with personal change, the task can seem monumental. I get this…I’ve been rejected a bunch of times. Yeah, it stings, but I also know that God inspired my stories and that makes me keep plugging away.
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