Why I write

Why I write


I write because I have to.

No message, no voice.

I write for it demands me.

Because I have no choice.


I wake and think of writing,

I go to bed the same.

All day I think of writing,

My antidote, my pain.


Nothing matters but the writing,

Not people, place or things.

There’s only that unbidden quest

To make a sentence sing.


When the writing stops I stop.

In this way it’s like breath.

I do it for I have to

And must continue until death.

                                                                                                                                                                                                              You can find my debut novel here: http://viewbook.at/killarneyblues


2 responses to “Why I write

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