Why I Write Scholarship (CLOSED)

Poetry is my oxygen. It is the sweet sugar that enters my lungs when those cold and lonely nights threaten to scratch at my already bleeding wounds, Like nobody is watching. Poetry is my savior. I…

Writing is the true answer to any complication It's beauty at it's best The words outline my body Defining who I am and who I can be More then just a hobby It's life Life on paper, inked down with a…

He spoke with silence, the smokers lived there Back in black alleys with blacker, burnt air But he was trapped his chords rotten red with his huffs and his puffs, he left his voice dead Momma…

Unspoken words trapped in a yarn of introspection. I cease to try to make a noise, Yet I hand over my written phrases. With every intricate word, with every written letter I may leave this world but…

have you ever slipped, on a step, in the dark, and you stomach drops, and you can feel, feel yourself falling f a l l i n g and you grab, grab for a hold, a hand the wall just to keep on to stop the…

When I was younger, I used to try to jump off of tables to make myself fly. But when my bones were all broken (and my dreams were as well) I came to realize why I always fell: you can try all you…

My story It starts in a budding household Not really broken But still in need of repair My parents They were young They started something, something complex Neither were ready Things didn’t abruptly…

Sometimes there are webs of ideas that cant be explained but through circles and lists slowly a complete thought formulates as random things stumble out of ones mind and on to the paper they realize…

Why do I write Why do I write? Hummm such a simple question yet my answer is so complicated its almost indescribable... but yet it shall be scribe-able....I write to unleash my feelings its the only…

To speak for those without voices; To feel as they have felt, and bleed as they have bled; To record the lives of others, their thoughts, feelings, and opinions, so that they might become immortal…

My eye see critics all around me. So, I stay hidden safe in my notebook where eyes can not see me. My words are safely locked away, the words I wish I could say. Anxiety... A curse to your life. Fear…

Alone, sheltered, shut in My days grew long and tired Until solace found in brand new worlds And freedom When I write the words take shape They sprout from me like wings I discover new ways to travel…

Why do I write? A questioned that's plagued me since puberty. Why do I write? I'm not very good. My woulds aren't flowing or detailed. I'm repetitive with Ands or Ors, and that gets annoying. Why do…

Everyone dreams of growing up With memories of when you drank from a sippy cup Places you've dreamed of going Expressing yourself because you're already glowing I want to be free People may say…

Whenever I am down when I can no longer take it anymore bad thoughts goes through my mind sometimes I want my life to end already but what would that take me I would only disapear and would only have…

Too many feelings To express without crying Written tears will do

A poet knows There are one thousand ways to tell a lie And only one way to tell the truth A poet knows That sometimes a lie makes a better story Than any truth ever would A poet knows that people…

I live in a land where the flag speaks red A red that gives pride and shelter until my end Yet to my Friends red Bends to displaying the Bloodshed Of their countries Living through the darkness of…

Walking through life, Dealing with people with up-turned noses, With their pants too low, With their attitudes hanging lower than their earrings, and their riches hanging from their finger tips. My…

It’s like the moments when you stutter and what you want to say simply won’t come out. It has the power to make you shutter or jump for joy or scream and shout. It flows so graceful, or can be be…

Composition and a ball point pen The mind is an AK-47. 40 eight. Forty-nine. Depends on the lines And if one wants to rhyme You don’t have to, but… Wait… Off topic Thoughts locked. Loaded. Ready To…

You ask me why I like to write. The answer isn't always black or white. A poem is a thought with rhythm and stanzas, Guaranteed to drive me bananas! Poetry is music without a tune, A breath of fresh…

Why I write is the question that’s been asked, Which I shall answer like poets in the past There are so many reasons I don’t know where to begin Other than I love the felling og the pen I write as a…

I come alive when I write A pen in hand a universe to create Characters wait in frozen time I give them life with each new page A boy A girl A meet cute waiting for me to write them in to existence A…