My Passion

Sometimes When I'm huddled up on the floor at 3 AM furiously scribbling down any and every thought that pours out of my mind The question strikes me "Why the hell do you write?" The question is honest and relevant For the fame? No, not for the fame I couldn't give a damn about the fame For money? Hell no, are you an idiot? The chances of anyone reading my stuff are low enough as it is Let alone actually paying me for it To get your feelings out? Possibly, it has kept me from losing my mind on quite a few occasions But I've kept everything inside and let a brutal war rage on in my head as I sat in silence on just as many occasions I think in the end I write for the connection The possibility of someone glancing at my words and saying, "Hey, I know how he feels." Or maybe some lonely, mixed up kid not unlike myself reading and saying, "Wow, someone actually understands." If I could make a connection, just one connection then screw everything else.