The answer to this age old question 

seems to be everchanging for me

 

When I was small and niave

I wrote about the boys I was to shy to speak with,

yet adored with every inch of my 4 foot frame

 about Cormacs glowing blue puddle eyes

 about Tims kind smile, and sweet face.

 

But as I grew times got tough

dad lost his job

grandma got sicked

               then died..

Then I wrote to cope

to Survive

 

But eventually as the pendulum that is my life 

began to swing back upwards

I wrote to remeber

the milestones and the joyful times

the first kisses

the family friends brothers and sisses

My Writing was like photographs 

it captured a day a moment in time.

 

As I continue to grow older, braver

I realize that My words are strong

they dont need to be hidden 

in diaries with locks and keys

in torn notebooks stashed under my matress

My words have more power then I know

I realize that the more I write

the more I grow.