Why I Write

The mind is well designed,

It must have taken some planning,

Some thought.

It’s a place that no one else can see.

My mind is mine,

My thoughts,

My worries,

My beliefs,

My dreams,

All mine.

That is why I write.

If you could look into the depths,

To see what is in my mind,

You wouldn’t like what’s there.

A small space filled to the brim,

Overflowing and full of

Thoughts too ambiguous to be shared,

Worries too somber to be spoken aloud,

Beliefs too obscure to be accepted,

Dreams too imaginative to be understood.

That is why I write.

I must share with the world

The things they cannot see,

The things that are hidden within,

The things too difficult to find.

I must reveal what is inside me,

Inside the mind that is all mine.

All of my thoughts that cannot be shared,

My worries that cannot be spoken,

My beliefs that cannot be accepted,

My dreams that cannot be understood.

I write for many reasons,

Some of which will never be clear.

I write to share and to reveal myself

To a judging world.

A world that would not understand my mind.

I write to give meaning to my ambiguous thoughts.

I write to shed light upon my own sorrows.

I write to share my beliefs in a sensible fashion.

I write to let others have faith in my dreams.

And that is why I write.