What drives me to create poetry,

What drives the painter to paint?

Poetry is merely words on a canvas.

My heart and soul are paint,

My pain and suffering are paint,

My happiness and successes are paint.

I chose my paint,

I chose what beauty I create,

What masterpiece I mold before my very eyes.

I chose to let the side of me that cares about what someone else thinks go.

I chose to be myself, for myself,

I chose to paint with words,

Not caring if I will be judged for what I say.

I chose to say what I am too afraid to say,

Poetry is my voice.

It is my way of speaking, of expression,

It is my art, an art I would not trade it for all the world's riches.