Why I write

there’s no greater movement inside of me
than when their faces shine bright
from something I’ve created from nothing

the something may make me cry
make me fall into self-doubt
but there’s beauty from the pain

the beauty brings smiles onto people’s faces
the smiles give me a rushed feeling
the rushed feeling beckons me to write again

my words could never be read
could be hated by the world
but that’ll never stop me from writing

there’ll always be a new piece from me
there’ll always be words coming out of me
there’ll always be me, with a pen in my hand, writing

5 thoughts on “Why I write

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