Why do I write poetry?
Is it to be noticed? No.
Because I have to? No.
Just because I am good at it? No.
None of these are my reason
I write because my soul yearns for it.
To be expressed in beautiful ways.
I pour it onto paper.
So that it isn’t as heavy.
I read it only when I know it won’t be harmed.
Only to those I trust.
To those who understand.
To those who will accept and hold my soul in gentle hands.
But I do not share all.
There are corners of my soul,
That only I shall see.
That only my paper will know.
Because it is mine and no one else’s.
This freedom, this expression.
This is my reason for writing.
To those who do not understand.
And only see words with no meaning.
I pity you.
Because you will never find,
The peace that I have found.
Within my mind, soul and paper.