I write them to sting
Deep into ears that read
And eyes that listen to me,
In black and white, in verse and prose.
My voice - it's dead and dies in song,
A verbal from my mouth is stale
The sound I make - no, it's not dainty.
I write them to preserve
Pain that creates nostalgia,
Happiness that beckons the tear-drop,
Memories of the few who'd die for I.
Belittlement, I've seen it,
Prejudice, I've had a slice of it,
Celebration, I've swum in it,
Success, I've walked tall on its steps.
I write them to live
In my place and beyond myself,
I write them for you
Whose face is like a mirror to I.
I write them to purify
My frailties, my weakness, my failure.
I write them to show
I've got a soul!