Why I Write

Why I write ?

I write because

What is in a NAME?

A destiny, a person

A truth about whom

You will become

Is it the red of

Rose petals falling

Gently on

The green grass

As the wind caresses

The skin of a new

Born child

Who is called . . .


Is it the life lived?

By and by scrapping

To prosper yet falling

Failing not reaching the

Top of the pyramid of

Success, but in return

Dying at the bottom of

The abyss, that cold

Breath that touches you

Just as you live your last

Heart beat, and

How your family

And friends mourn . . .

The personality

Behind a



Merely letters in

An order

Its has

A singular purpose

It was given at


And reused after


Common yet

Original to you

So a NAME is only


It is important how, you,

Make people remember it


But I also write because

I wish . . . 

I wish I could call you

To tell you how I feel

To speak you name in whispers

And let my love be real

I wish that you would hold me

And tell me all is right

To hold me close in warm embrace

With in your arms all night

I wish that I could love you

And tell you all about me

But some things are meant for secrets

And our love just isn’t to be

I wish that you would love me

And say my name with care

And sit by me as the sun goes down

As I play in your hair

I wish that there were no boundaries

Between both you and I

And that your love could life me up

Until I reached the sky

I wish that I could tell you this

With out a care our doubt

But as it is this little voice

Stays in me with out a shout

I wish the little voice would scream

“I love you more and more”

But it has been hurt many times

In the past before

I wish you knew how I felt for you

And would tell me that you’re the same

Because my heart is waiting for you

With a fire that can’t be tamed 

So I wish that love could prevail

And could set us all free

But honestly, I wish that your love

Was mostly, meant for only me

I write because I love poetry 

I bare all of my soul

It helps explain me

And have my story told

I write because no one listens

To the story of my life

So instead I create a story

Of another welding a knife

I write because it let me live

Through the characters I create

And then the life I wish I had 

Is now fully sedate.