catofjade

A lonely soul, or a soul alone?
An unknown great, or a great unknown?
Do my words reveal, display, shout, or shield?
With what motive do I this predilection wield?
And what results will it all yield?
I'm afraid that the rest of me
Might remain
Dredged in invisibility
To spare myself the drain of strain,
Oh! the pain, or, perhaps, even the gain,
Just to find out
What you think about
How in my writing I express
(I write this part with doubt, I must confess)
To mankind, the kind of man I'd be
If, that is, I wasn't a lady!
That is to say, I'd like to see
Some of your writing, in order to be
Apprised, a bit, of your identity,
As thou art now, somewhat, of me.