(poems go here)Why do I right? Why does anyone?
Why do we write what we write?
Why do we mark up the precious white?
I can’t speak for you,but…
I can write for me
I write for peace
I write for hope
I write for love,
A little love to make the world go ‘round.
A little hope to make the world go farther.
A little peace to make the world tolerate each other.
I write for me.
I write for you.
I write for them,
You may not hear me, but
I scream at the top of my lungs for you
I do it all through the precious white;
I mark up the precious white for everything.
I mark it up for the sad and the dark,
For the happy and the light.
If you look, you’ll see me.
You’ll see through the lines of black and white.
That’s why I write.