How is it that one person who publishes daily another who does it  by week and yet a third that sits up and wait for something to hit all refer to themselves as writers? From what logic is it said that one must be famous to be considered achievers? We attach to much importance to what others see too much value of what they feel we are. We allow others to control all plus our mind, forgetting that the buck stops at none but us. If we made it they share our joy if we fail, they scorn some even rub it in our faces. Meaning well causing harm, we let it get to us and start living by their standards striving to get to their mark. I am what I want to be, I am what I choose I am because I say I am.

I am a swimmer
Not because I won the local meet
Or for the records and times I set
I am a swimmer
For every time I plunge head first in the icy waters
I surface with ease
To me that’s no mean feat

I am a singer
Not for the albums
Not for the record deals
Not for the hit singles attributed to me
I am a singer for I can hold longest a note in the shower
I am a singer
For when I sing,
It lifts me and sets me apart from thee

I am a dancer
I haven’t gone out on a world tour
I haven’t choreographed with the largest smallest or any ensemble that be
But I am a dancer
I rearranged my room with my leaps and my falls
I wowed my dog with my steps down the hall
And saved a red face when I didn’t step on her toes
I am a dancer
Even my shadow partner says I am

I am a fighter
No belts
No sponsorships yet
No agents scouring for me fights
But yes, I am a fighter
Hitting canvas hitting net
Fighting hard to stay awake
Tonight I’ll take left
Tomorrow I am up here darting from right to left
Giving just as much as I take
Giving twice more
I am a fighter
 I fight.

I am a poet
Lots of similes unheard
I am a poet
Must I go into explanation of what lies above?
I write
I am a writer
I give life to words
I carve letters I arrange fonts
I give images to lifeless syllables
I am a writer
I speak freely from the heart
Arrested by my pen
Convicted by my thoughts
I let it pour out at my paper
My screen
My template
I am a writer for I chose to be one

Before you tell me I cannot swim
Get into the waters and do it
You say I cannot sing
Belt out a tune for me
Before you criticize my dancing steps
All up in arms to hand my shoes,
Glide across the room let’s see you leap and twist
Before you say I sucker punch
Stand on the end of a three minute blow fest
Let me watch you get back up and punch the air rousing the crowd for support
And when you look at my product and sneer
When you see my words and snigger
Sit me down with pen and paper and say
“Son this is how it’s done”
For my dreams are my own and my output my sweat
But pray you get the courage to guide where you see I’m wrong.

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