Writing requires thinking.

Being,

Doing.

Following a dream

That’s worth pursuing.

A task that others said

Wasn’t even worth reviewing.

But I know what I am doing,

I know what I am brewing.

A generation,

A society,

That will not be worth undoing.

 

I’m bringing a culture up.

I’m filling up a cup

Of scholars,

Lawyers,

And doctors,

That society cannot corrupt.

I’m bringing up the future

That holds the key to the past,

Through my words and my expressions

That I deliberately built to last

Until all time has come to pass.

 

I am speaking for the child

Whose words cannot be heard

Through the screams in her voice,

Her speech tired, and slurred.

I am making

A world

Where imagination is free,

Minds are not corrupt,

And I am free to be me.

I’m escaping from a world

Where my feelings come last.

Where my generation

Is viewed in hate

Until our time has come to pass.

 

I’m fighting an invisible war.

An injustice

On the part of man.

I’m fighting,

The world by battlefield.

I’m writing,

My weapons in hand.

 

I’m speaking for all to hear me,

To lo and behold

And to fear me.

For I am the one

Who would have said not to run

When the enemy’s conquered

And the battle is won.

For it will be me

That the people will see

When I stand up and say

That my people are free.

The battlefield full,

My pen beside me.

 

I am the person

Who will set things right.

I will change the world,

I will join the fight.

My war plans and ships

Have been torn apart,

But I paint the revolution

In my works of art.

 

I’m building a generation

Of leaders of tomorrow

To take the world in their grasp

And drag it out of its sorrow.

I tear down the system,

And through its ashes I claim

The minds of my people

It had put down in shame.

Through my words I bring peace,

I bring justice to light.

For I am a writer,

And this is why I write.