Death to Glory! (poem)

 For years I was lost to doubt.
having stumbled out into the internet,
I witnessed a thousand writers screaming out into the void
not willing to hear, only to be heard
and I was there too, floating among them
wondering if there was value to adding my voice to the cacophony
to continue a constant desperation for attention
is that all the pen was truly good for?
is that all I was good for?

Though I gave those doubts a voice,
they have gone unanswered
even as I stand before you now reading this poem
in this warm café off the beaten path
where poets congregate to share and listen
from sharp seasoned pens to teenage girls
who make my early years all the more embarrassing.

Here, I found the truth that lies beyond doubt
a roaring flame that such darkness could never know
we unweave ourselves up on the stage to find each other:
the pen is not a sword on the field of glory
it is a cup of tea between friends
it is singing by the campfire on a cool night
it is love's embrace when grief takes you
it is knowing you are not alone
and telling others they never will be.

And so those doubts are not worth the ink
when there is passion to be felt,
beauty to see, joys to share,
this vibrant exuberance we've created together.
I want to keep hearing your voices
and thank you for hearing mine.

-Zero