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.