The world moves at four hundred and ninety thousand miles per hour

Having trillions of crazy things happening in it every second

And here I am, with some paper and a pen

Sitting completely still, with my hand scribbling away

To ask me why I write is to ask me how I feel

And how I feel can sometimes be hard to describe

Happiness is like a perfect summer day with no rain in sight

Confidence is like knowing you worked hard enough to get the good grades you deserve

Anxiousness is like watching the clock countdown to the final minutes of the last day of school

Jealousy is loving the guy who will never love you; and hating the one he loves because you know she loves him too

Anger is like being in a hurry when everyone around you decides to stop and smell the roses

Fear is like the first day of college; knowing where you want to go but not how to get there

Sadness is like dealing with the fact time will never slow down

And tranquility,

Well tranquility is this

The world moving at four hundred and ninety thousand miles per hour

With its trillions of crazy things happening every second

And me here, with some paper and a pen

Sitting completely still, with my hand scribbling away

Writing how I feel

Writing why I write

And that’s such a complex question

Because in a way rules don’t apply

There is no right or wrong way to write

Rhyme schemes can change

And stories can trail off into unknown territory

And maybe that’s why I write

Because the world’s moving at four hundred and ninety thousand miles per hour

And trillions of crazy things are happening in it every second

And I’m here, with some paper and a pen

Sitting completely still, with my hand scribbling away

And I don’t need to worry about what someone reading this would think

I can confess to them my every hope and dream and problem and worry

I can hide behind these words and still tell them exactly how I feel

And they wouldn’t even know it