I Write Poems and I Do Not Know Why

I write poems, I don't know why. I find words lost in the tears and screams of the night. Dark painful sorrows under shadowed light. I write poems, I don’t know why. I imagine looking deep into the abyss of a scarred soul. See pain eating someone’s heart as they let go. Find a way to cut in and examine their deep. Chase their screams in their heads until they speak. I write poems, I don’t compromise. Some will make you laugh, some will bawl your eyes. I write words that bang in my head. Some about living a life, some about being dead. I write poems and I don’t know why. Words appear and I just have to write. Some talk to me in my mind, some come and go out of sight. But a minute or thirty seconds later the words are there. Perhaps they just help me find peace in this world of despair.