Writing Something

 

 

 

When the mouth goes dry,

The voice numb

Holding back the screams pushing against the silence;

Hands drenched in sweat.

When the heart races past the normal pace

And the mind wonders;

Who sees me?

I write.

The moment a mother realizes her two paychecks still can’t feed her child.

The moment a young man has to pick up a gun instead of a book.

The moment a daughter has to count the days her mother has on Earth due to the murderous cancer cells ravaging her body.

The moment strength, courage, and love don’t seem to be enough,

I write.

Through tears of happiness as well as sadness;

During times of unbearable pain and heartache

When reminiscing on past journeys to the dreams of the future.

I write for the free-spirited adolescent child inside of each and every one of us.

The child who has been smothered by responsibility, age, heartache, and negativity.

I write to inspire that child to immerge from the depths of an unlighted soul and believe once again.

The belief that the world does have something to offer other than struggle

The belief there is hope for a dream made once, but has since been forgotten

I write to comfort me because I know if there is ever a shimmer of doubt in my mind

Words are my shield in a fight, my seduction in a poem, my kiss to an unknown lover

On paper my words come to life forming the person I used to be, am, and want to become.

I write… something not everyone has the gift to do.

 

 

 

De’Sean Knockum