Why Write
That day I rode with a bunch of writers
Amidst talking about why they’d write
One said he originally wrote to right
Another wanted the world to enlight
Still another, just to vent his extra steam
And she, to keep her in a beautiful dream
When it came to my turn, I said, well, I
I was afraid of a premature chance to die
There was a sudden stoppage of the flow
As if unsure whether to laugh or to woe
It came to me one day my PC broke down
I felt I was presently knocked out at a loss
All my savings gone,nowhere to be found
I was left with nothing, totally broke
As if a miser died of a sudden stroke
When I eventually turn to earth
I may leave nothing of any worth
Poetry is the only asset I care to control
I’ll try to create with all my heart and soul
Some live to eat
Some live to beat
Some live to write on
Some live to singsong
And those crazy fans
Must have sensed the the rhythm of soul
But those immune to the beautiful
Might well be soulless
I write, because I am soulful
And a soul strives for immortal