We write for what we think is right.

We write to remind us of memories,

To recollect, reminisce, and move on to new remedies.

But isn’t it sometimes only the paper who sees your inner hidden things?

                                        

We write sometimes for what can’t be said aloud,

Words that cannot simply be said in front of a crowd.

To capture every thought perfectly, like a masterpiece,

Woven together and then released

Onto the paper.

We etch our thoughts

For those who are simply on our mind,

Or for ourselves so we won’t hide behind

-Our feelings-

 

These words can break us or make us

Who we are.

All words are precious,

And help us rejuvenate with a bit of freshness.

Falling down like raindrops,

Words pour out and never stop.

 

We write for what we think is right.

We write to remind us of memories,

To recollect, reminisce, and move on to new remedies.

But isn’t it sometimes only the paper who sees your inner hidden things?