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.