I write to ease my conflicts and feel light like a feather and better after weighty endure.
I write to impound the poise I have that I am the best, who holds words in his head all day and night till he’s filled with dread.
I write to break away from mind-numbing life and get some thoughts on a page exploring new territories that open my mind.
I write to liberate myself from the margins of society and crack the chains of world to create my own.
I write to hear the sounds of happiness, kissing the crimson lips, hugging the hips, seeding the world with what I believe.
I write to express my thoughts which can’t be restricted in my head, as they entreat to widen their legs and run in a wordy world.
I write to untangle my feelings that are dicey, knotted strings with a free potent tug on the end of the lines, being my mesmeric strength of muse.
I write to show everyone as I connect to dissect the wall they have erected, declaring to the world that it is time to break free.
Why do I write…because nothing I can do will ever be full of my beliefs; which hop and lap around my life and tumble about my soul.
I write a lot, which keeps me off the streets and out of trouble. There is always something to write about, always a new story to craft. Not writing, for me, is like trying to hold back a sneeze. Learning to write was the most powerful influence in my life. I can still remember the awe I felt when I realized I could put real words onto paper and tell out a story. From that first ‘a-ha’ moment I knew I wanted to write.
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