Strangled by every word he writes,
Never knowing his reader’s shifting moods.
Their reactions become his motivation,
Turning his passion into pure dedication.
The life he lives may seem comfortable,
Yet some comments feel unbearable.
He chose writing simply as a hobby,
But is judged as though he committed a robbery.
The human heart can sometimes be evil,
Not only spirits can be devils.
They hide beneath human flesh,
Seeking ways to wound and leave the pain fresh.