Why I Became a Poet

Because there is a God in heaven who demands an accounting. Because there are demons on earth who never sleep. Because the wind whispers words into my head whether I want it to or not. Because my little Caitlyn loved toads. Because the world has flipped upside down and its goodness has been lost. Because little children keep crying out in anguish. Because my voice must be added to the din of those seeking change. Because the sky bleeds red, black and blue. Because hope cannot be silenced. Because darkness must be exposed by light. Because my bones ache when I keep poetic words bound. Because freedom of speech demands it. Because the words and ideas that awaken me at three a.m. must be committed to pen and paper or I cannot sleep. Because a kind word can heal a broken heart, or a crushed spirit. Because the world can be harsh and cruel to the most vulnerable among us. Because I want my unique style to be recognized and lauded. Because Thomas Woodward, Winky, Sam Dumpty and other characters that have sprung from my brain have a right to exist, live and breathe. Because I am lonely sometimes. Because I want the world to be better, brighter. And most of all, because I want you to accept me into your heart where I can feel wanted, safe and secure.