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Why I Write

I write because I write

I write because of my sight

I write because my tongue can’t bite

I write because my arms can’t fight

I write because I have no other might

With which to claim my right

I write because I have seen the light

Shining around me this very night.

I write because my mind is addicted to an alphabetic soup

I write because I’m out of the hen coop

I write because without it, I can’t cope

In this world of course

I write because something tells me my next lines would be dope

I write because there’s nothing better than not doing so

I write because I won’t allow my inner voice to tell me, man! I told you so

I write because there’s nothing enchanting about it

I write because I prefer the feeling of sitting on my own arse

Inhaling and tasting an alphabetic soup

Myself cooked

By my own recipe

Without been cautioned

Or told I deviated off the menu

I write because great persons like you

Would heed my voice and read

I write because I have never found a better exercise that keeps me fit.

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Author:

A mathematician, poet and avid reader. Also simple, gregarious and mysterious...

One thought on “Why I Write

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