A week before my mother died from a long battle with cancer, I spent two hours at her bedside crying about what a disappointment I was to her. How I didn't live up to what (I thought) she expected of me. About how inadequate I am.
I took one look at Fragile by =neeta, and I am confromted with the same feelings. It doesn't matter what I say, what I say won't be right.

I wrote three different comments for that deviation, but I erased them all, because I didn't feel that I could do it justice, that I couldn't give as good a comment as someone else. this is the reason that I failed English in High School, and Drafting in Community College. I don't believe that my work is worth submitting, because I dont believe that I am worth submitting.

I will probably delete this before I press the add button.

Doesn't matter.... Who's gonna look.