My Reason

To ask why I write is to ask why I breathe In happiness's delight or in anger I seethe I write to fill the void, the emptiness of my life The never ending loneliness that cuts me like a knife. My days have always been short, I prefer the night Though I detest being alone, the dark gives me sight I see the world more clearly, I wonder of my place Do I have a great future, am I a waste? I write to speak, speak to someone other than myself Even if it’s just a paper, that will become a book upon my shelf. I’ve read and read, and learned to write from this Now writing is my life, my escape and my bliss. I wouldn't trade it for the world, because the pages never turn my pencil away I write because it is my anchor, what helps me earth bound to stay.