why i write

I write because
Too many people won't talk anymore
Too many problems too quickly ignored
Too many detriments the same as before
And sure, I'm only one man with pen in hand
But words are how the world began
With words, life was formed;
Calmed was the storm;
And if sticks and stones
May break my bones but
Words will never hurt me,
Then how can the tongue be
A two-edged sword?
And they say a pen is
Mightier than the sword anyway,
So I write.

I write because there are those who cannot
And the proverbial fight must still be fought.
What fight is that, I don't always know but
Someone has to fight it.
And so I'll write it.

Language unites and language divides;
Words build up and destroy in the same sentence.
This power rips from my insides, in hopes that
One can somehow provide penance for another.
I've shattered and I've put back together.
It doesn't matter whether or not the intention
Is pure or wicked; that two-edged sword will
Sever in either direction. And the repetitive arguments
For justice and peace are making no headway
And becoming trite.
So I write.

I write because white sheets with empty blue lines
Make me anxious. Blank pages for verbal sages,
And I ache to add a few lines from my couple decades
Of wisdom to the ages. Language unites and language
Divides but words from the soul bridge any gap.
And gaps are getting too wide, spreading like a
Cadaver's chest, revealing insides left by the wayside.
Rescue is pertinent or catastrophe is imminent.
So ink on paper, thoughts exhibited on parchment
Previously unscathed by the two-edged
Sword is what I crave.
So I write.