Aeneid One
November 3, 2016
Arms I sing – on my man, The last to come near this crone. Of Newark, graduated to Arbors where a squirrel welcomed him. My man battered
by meek false friends, gathered his own powers to face the universe of secrets.
My man who suffered greatly in life until he could find his true love to bring home to a life of contentment from which I will never roam, who would, would you, secure within his everlasting love.
Purpose: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!
Posting: The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and the fears you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in the group and connect with your fellow writer – aim for a dozen new people each time.
Let’s rock the neurotic writing world!
Twitter hashtag is #IWSG
Interesting poem. Love the first line.