Writing is a passage to the soul,
A life etched in ink or coal.
My story is different and unheard
Yet so many find it so absurd.
I write to tell my story,
I write to escape my quarry,
All I want is to be understood,
I write to feel good.
To empty my sea of depression and sorrow
A soul free of hate and anger I borrow,
I write to free myself of this jail
I write so I will not fail.
I live to be joyous, to love.
I live for experiences, or lack thereof.
I am naught but life's pupil
Taking notes and writing every scruple
So others may know my strife,
So others may learn from my life.
I write not only for me,
Nay, I scribe as well to thee,
So that you may wade into my mind's shoal
To gaze upon and learn about my soul.