The day I discovered I was born to write
was the day it was ripped from me.
The hateful critiques of idiocies
spurred a dark emptiness through me.
Someone had punched a hole through my heart
and left me out to die.
I lashed out at my family and friends
and for days I didn\'t know why.
Because when my dream was taken from me,
so were my thoughts and words.
And a writer is not a writer
if their thoughts and words go unheard.
The day I discovered I was born to write,
I set myself apart.
For a writer is not a writer
if their words don\'t come from their heart.