It is not for the money
And especially not for the chance of fame,
But rather, to seize the opportunity of freedom,
Along with its chances of peace,
Or the ultimate chaos,
Which most likely drove us to writing in the first place.
It’s not to see our own ideas on paper,
To see ourselves on paper.
We cannot organize our thoughts
Or even recognize our own feelings
Until they are here, on paper,
And we can sit back and see them all at once;
That’s the only time they begin to make sense.
The question isn’t,
“Why do writers write?”
No, it is,
“Why do writers let their work be read?”
On this, I can only answer for myself.
You see, I’m very tormented by the hassle of trying
To sort thoughts,
To identify feelings,
And then to face the greatest challenge
Of trying to make sense of them.
We all have opinions, wonders, worries, and feelings
Constantly dashing through our mind
At least to my understanding,
Human nature tends to bring about the same
General things we all seek;
Such as meaning in life,
Or understanding of pain,
If I can do some of the “paperwork”
Of putting these thoughts and feelings into somewhat of an order,
Perhaps others who read my writing
Will seize the opportunity and make sense of their own thoughts.