Why I Write

'Why Do I Write?'
I ask as I lay tying on my grubby laptop.
I have to ask myself a deep question
That will lead me to Insanity before I am done thinking.

'I Write' I type cautiously into the ageing keyboard
'I Write because I was, and still am'. I Pause. Thinking.
'I Write' I write, 'because I feel
Happy, Sad, Angry, Calm, Unloved, and Loved
All at the Same Time'.

Now I feel conflicted. How, if I can,
How will I let them understand how I see things?
I continue. 'I write because I want to voice my opinion'.
I stop, looking around my cream room.

What now?
What folly was I under to have been so stupid;
To have thought that this Free-Form Facade
would have covered up who I am. So,
I continue once more,

'I Write because...' A lump in my throat forms
As I prepare to type and speak it out loud;
'I Write because I Love It, and I know that
It Keeps my Blood Flowing, better than
The Heart'.

Flood of Relief, Drought of Anger in my Life.
I feel like the hand around my neck has been loosened,
as The Enjambment in my head, and that of
The street spills over...

'Why Do I Write?'
I Don't Know. Maybe it is inspired by
He, She, It, They, or Her;
Stuff I have seen or I have heard on the other
Side of the line. Stuff I hear on the News, here and away.

'I Write because I am Stubborn, and I Won't Stop,
No, Never, He, She, It, or They can't stop me.
And only Her enchanting voice can draw me away
From the Paper and Pen, or the Keyboard.'

I Love Writing just a little bit less than I 'Love' Her.