WHY I WRITE

She picks up her

pencil

And words began to

fall on the paper

It’s just an

assignment to do nothing more

Nothing less

But as she gets home she finds it as a release of stress A written page of hope A paper full of words to help her cope A line of adventures A verse writing her perfect picture Her lips won’t move but as the paper lies Her heart speaks and the pencil comes alive She’s unaware The shift of the atmosphere These words are music The words dance across the page They make a touch down The winning basket in the fourth quarter The winning goal after a long game The fantasy of a lifetime When nothing seems right When she sees no one there Writing becomes nothing more but the closest thing to home It’s where she seems to belong