The Importance of Words

Why do I write? Why does a dancer dance? Why does a potter mold clay? Why does an actor act? Perhaps it is for money, you say but I beg to differ. A dancer will dance to feel the world around them move To pour out their soul without ever speaking a word To move, perhaps moving to ensure they stay ahead. A potter will not simply make a pot Not when they can create anything from the cold, sticky substance That bends to their will They can create something never seen before Or perhaps it is always seen, but never noticed. An actor will pretend to be someone he is not Maybe to escape from who he is Who people want him to be Who he doesn't want to be Or perhaps it is to show the world what can be done When one truly wants it done. So why do I write? Well, why do you read? Do you want the chance to escape to a far away image? Or do you want to relate to a stranger? Do you want to relive a memory? Or do you want to escape reality's danger? I write, to give you these things Or, rather to give us these things. I want to create To show others Perhaps it is simply to get outside of my own mind. Perhaps it is for some unspoken, pre-ordained meaning. Maybe I don't have a choice? Not so. My choice is to write. To write, to change the world.