"Why does she write?" the kids at my school always ask
"Words are unimportant!" they say, "Words do not last!"
I pretend I can't hear them, I quell their horrid words
But deep down, I wish I could soar away like a bird.
Birds make beautiful music with their voices
In the morning, noon, and night
Their songs can be heard from near or far
Their songs elicit laughter, warmth, and light.
Birds are also free, wearing no chains or ties
They do whatever pleases them and sing whatever they like.
They tune out the harsh words we humans throw at them,
They turn away from all the dirty looks,
They keep making that beautiful music,
Despite how much strength it took.
So now whenever people ask me why I write,
Or whenever they ask me what writing does for me,
I tell them I write to create something beautiful like the birds,
I write to set me free.