Why I write

Sitting in a classroom, feeling lost
The teachers felt that, learning, I must
Looking at a blank sheet of paper
Made me feel that writing was my desire

 

In a society that traps and judges
Poems are a way to express myself
Society is still in a world that budges
I, for one, put my hopes and dreams in a bookshelf

 

Paper and pencil have become my arms in life
A place I can express myself without judment
Where nothing I say is insolent
It is what sheds light in my life

 

At days when I felt lost and betrayed
My passion for writing was my only aide
When pain and anguish filled my thoughts
I felt that pen and paper were a must