I write because it is my enchantment,
I don’t need to feign my competence,
Of matching and coupling words together,
To a celebrated new meaning,
Away from styled record of blemished sadism,

I am able to put words together,
Words that make me feel relevant and imperative,
In a cold world that made me believe I was small,
Lowest than the lowest vermin,
That forces me to seize myself from all vanity,
My potential makes me to be in the verge of explosion,
Because few seem to notice all that I posses,
I feel invincible and transparent whenever my hand is up,
But words symbolize a clear visage that makes me remain placid,
Words save me from the litany of lies,
Of guilt and self-accusation,
From a shell of despair, sadness and fear,
And bring me to ride in the waves of pure triumph,
Of a man entitled of own dreams and illusions,

Day after day the words keep me going,
Tentatively my caution giving away,
To a world full of glorious possibilities,
Drool dripping from my mouth,
Of the promises of golden moments ahead!


17 thoughts on “Why I Write

  1. This is so beautiful and amazing. I think poems and poets are awesome…I’m so jealous. Thanks for liking my little poem. I’m following your blog in anticipation of more 😀

    Liked by 1 person

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