I write for no other reason than I hate
that blinking line
with its taunting
Not to be
And then be again.
Would have had a lot to say about
That blinking line.
I write for the gentle giants
Whom I pass by
Without a second thought
In the daylight
But when the sun goes down
And the skies open
The downpour that makes it
Difficult to see the blinking light
Slow down or speed up because the giant
Will eat you if you don’t.
I write because my best friend’s mom
And because there is no way to express
How much this worries me.
Her hair is falling out and there is nothing
I can do about it.
I write because it’s the one thing
That I can create.
In a world where there is so much destruction.
I write so that my grandchildren’s children will be able to
Understand history. Through my eyes.
Not through some passive text book.
I write to leave something behind.