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.
Copyright © Marcus Jones | Year Posted 2006
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