A Writer's Letter Goodbye

Taking my dreams and putting them away.
Emotions plead; rest is what I need.
My mind has softened with all this wordplay.
The little workers inside my head are frenzied;
feeling need to spend time with families instead
Takes a lot effort not to have my intentions misread
My production has been done with a serious face.
The good I have achieve I don't want to debase.
However, a few lines in explanation won't hurt.
Don't want anybody to say I left without a trace.

I take pride that I send my words out doing a sashay
and command them, in the end, to be sure they curtsied.
On their lapel and backs, I check for cliches.
Despite demand, always required another proofread.
Even then, errors are found widespread.
therefore, my efforts to be candid were stymied.
Worse or all, I am seen as a braincase.
Now when I write, I can't stop using the backspace.
With this admission, further damage I hope to divert.
Don't want anybody to say I left without a trace.

My adult life has always been somewhat blase.
Out of fear, I faced each given day with much heed.
Otherwise, I felt like my next moment would be doomsday.
Those free from the shackles of feelings like these I envied.
Sadly, feeling like this is how I was bred.
yes, lacking in many areas but the fine art of fear I'm purebred.
My pedigree makes me encased in disgrace.
Don't remember when I was not looking for a crawlspace.
With words, I hoped my fears I could finally erase.
Sadly, I learned my fear was so grimy I can not culvert.
Don't want anybody to say I left without a trace.