Why Do I Write?

Why does he make me so mad?

Why does he not listen to me when I scream?

Why does he not understand why I am pissed?

Why does he close his eyes to my pain?

Why does he reject everything I give?

Does he hate me?

Does he care?

Where is the love, Where is the compassion?

Shakespeare asked, To be or not to be? Is that really the question or

To even be there is less noticeable than invisibly disappearing cascading into the shadows

I just want to know, and here is your answer …

I write because I vent, I speak, I talk, I feel

The words cover me like a comfortable warm blanket on a crisp cold day

Writings… the words… the spaces                                              the periods.

The End. (s).