Why I write

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You ask why I write.

I ask why do you care?

It’s because words can affright,

and make people stare.

Words give me power,

and other people hope.

I can lift up a child; make him feel tall as a tower,

instead of leaving him to cope

with the hate that he is tossed

from behind some keyboards.

This world has lost

it’s knights, with their swords.

Why don’t people give two shits anymore?

Why isn’t it okay, if he turns out to be gay?

Do you think using the word faggot settles some kind of score?

Maybe that’s why I write, Okay?

I use the same instrument,

but play a different tune.

I write because I’m sick of hiding in my basement,

and I want to make a difference in this world real soon. 

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