Doubt

Doubt.
It creeps in if you give it the slightest bit of room.
I was there.
Doubting what I wrote, doubting what it meant.
It’s “too dark.”
That’s what my doubt told me. “No one will read it.”
It had me shook.
Afraid I wasn’t relevant, afraid I wasn’t enough.
Then God stepped in.
He reminded me I am unique, wonderfully made.
I am different.
It’s okay and the world needs what I have to say.
So I write.
My poetry will never be embroidered on a pillow.
But, that’s okay.