A Poem For Those Who Create

Women painting in garden

I shy away from the suffering, from the struggle,
I also then shy away from the essence—
The truth, the ethos, the lifeblood, the fundamental quality, the quiddity, the spirit—
That makes worthy living possible, that propels my creative soul,
That keeps me

Whilst shying away,
May make me happier, now,
It does nothing to move me forward; without the essence—
Which, can only come by forcing myself out of the default state—
I can’t bring my potential into being, I can’t be original, I can’t produce, I can’t overcome,
I can’t survive,
For I know of no other way To survive;
For my definition of living is the direct opposite of existing—
May as well be in the ground.

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