Why I Write
Location
As a look in the mirror, I stare back at my reflection
I see the picture of a troubled man;
Searching to find and gaze at a portrait of redemption.
His vision is fogged; amid dim depression and loss of understand.
As I look through his eyes, I see the world from reality’s perception:
Sex… Money… Spite… Ego… Chameleon-ism…
An entrapped mindset where hindsight is an vile prism prison
Fear of failure, Ignorant Bliss, and Covetous Lust; a fool’s coping mechanism
Portraying pitiful self-worthlessness as a sign of wisdom.
I blink for a split second then I find myself, Starring at the world through a rare point of view:
Irises, Lilies, and Lotus Flowers growing from the ruins of Sodom and Gomorrah;
As the rose that grew from the concrete because of the firewater.
I gasp for breath, retreating back 2 steps for I’ve witness and seen the concept of miracles; Life after Death…
I’ve never been a holy man, but from his perspective I’m holding onto glory’s hand.
I can’t believe what my frail brown eyes have seen:
I thought I saw a image of myself but in reality it was life’s askew view of existence's nightmarish-realistic-dream:
Hold up, I said “In reality it was life’s askew view of existence’s nightmarish-realistic-dream” if you think about it, even I don’t know what that means
But I can notion and father the thought of why:
The pain, the struggle, the rain, the beauty, the dark, the mystery, the light
The hustle, the ambition, the meaning, and definition of life; tis why I write...
So much I’ve seen yet have seen none; Experience
So much I’ve accomplished yet haven’t done; Esperance
Temperance, emotions, patience, virtues, acceptance and even ignorance are all part of the reason why
Life in general; the ups and downs, the smiles and frowns, the good and evil
The hopeless hope of faith that derives people; that is why I write…