The reason I write isnt easily explained
Parts of me revealed from my mental frame
Trying to get a grip but its all so unarranged
These words which I cannot denounce or dename
I simply write because it is who I am
Started at a young age and ive grown into a man
A man fueled by lust and love
A man who hides his feelings in these words because
Our society doesnt let him be his self
Nowadays a man is defined by wealth
But my soul is the only thing thats rich
My family keeps me from adding another stitch
To my throat or my wrist, parts you cant see
They say to focus on my I's and slashing my t's
But I can't stop writing because it makes me
Who am , as a man, or who I dream to be
These words are my muscles
The sentences my ability
To move and walk, and cry and scream
These stanzas are my body as a whole, one beat
Fueled by my heart which is the title you all see
I dont write, im simply written
A story given to me , not by decision
But its one I hold and proudly show
Because the story is mine and mine alone
Though parts may not rhyme or come together
Some parts heavy, some light like a feather
Why i write isnt a question rather
Its the heartbeat you hear behind my laughter
Behind my pain
Behind my sorrow
These words that I write, which help bring in the morrow
This question ive been given , wont be answered
Becus what ive written wont really matter
Its what is still to come that will complete my banter
And allow me to live on from death and there after