I like to write,

It help's me think.

Why my life,

Is incomplete.

I calm down, 

And start to write.

I write about, 

My life's fight.

I write about hope's,

I write about plan's.

I write about thing's,

I don't understand.

I write about fate,

And it's strange little way's.

Of creeping up,

And making me pay.

But I hold on,

By making time.

Trying to clear space,

For my mind.

So that mabye,

I could see.

The step's I feel,

Ahead of me.

                                  G.S. / 88