One of the uses of poetry is certainly in providing a glimpse into an inner life, both as it is lived and experienced. But is that the only use? I should say that this question is purely academic to me, because what I produce isn't poetry in any serious sense of the word -- these are private rhymes, secret phrases that carry weight in my memory. They serve no greater purpose than recording the moments that produced them, and have been a success measured solely by the fact that I can re-read them and remember an episode or emotion vividly. But hubris tempts me to ask whether they could ever be something more.

In asking that, I am immediately shut down by a familiar reality -- to write something personal is trivial; but to write something externally emotive is not. Certainly others have shown that the two can be present simultaneously, but their creation remains a mystery to me. How does one get outside one's own consciousness, hopelessly warped and solipsistic as it is, and even hope to convey something to another person? Whenever the hopeless fantasy of sharing these writings crosses my mind, I think of any normal reaction to their content and context, and am forced to conclude that if judged by how clearly they express feelings for others to digest, they are an abject failure.

What does any of this matter, you ask? I don't actually think there's anything wrong per se with keeping writings private. I do suspect, though, that like with most things, there is value in having thoughts converted from the personal to the universal (or something resembling that). For a start, it might convince me that there is a world outside my own, and that there's nothing particularly special about my view of it. Whether this hypothetical mature version of me would have anything useful to say, though, is up in the air.