The bad writer

I doubt

I doubt

I doubt

being good

being able

to have the courage

to expose the column

and let the world play with it

I doubt

to allow a map of my arteries to be created

that my language can be learned

I make it basic for everyone to jump the rope with it

I doubt

I can go on, because I fear the world will catch what I say when my fingers get lost on the keyboards

And my lips read like they running from love 

I doubt

that I should continue with this massacre that is

evil to me

to you

and all

because the Gods have not blessed me

I have no one saying that there is greatness in me

I don't have a spirit to break

to expose me to a broken mirror

and glasses in gallery

so that the universe knows what disaster is the life that I try to practice in languages ​​that a child of five talks to adults

I doubt

to reach far

to get ovations

to do speeches

to love

to make torments

that makes the eyes cloud in tears

of celebration

of happiness

of victory

I doubt that what I dream can become a reality

When every word I write comes with a quiver as a signature

TA.