My white walls grow higher each day

Stark and cold, tall and thick

They’re like a well around me

I can see the exit, the burning brightness of the other side

But the walls are much too high to climb out by now,

I can see the shadows of people,

Some look down, some just walk by

And pretend that everything’s okay,

Pretend I’m not in so deep

Not so over my head,

Some of them even attempt to reach down,

And help me out,

But they can’t quite reach, an eventually

They give up, and just pretend the walls aren’t there

But no one’s ever tried the door.

You ask why I do this?
Why I stress myself out over the future?
Why, even when I am sick and I’m tired,
I continue to write, to sing, to dance, to act?
Why I am so determined to build a future on something
That causes me such exhaustion?

At first your questions stump me.
Never have I thought about why.
I just do.

These things are a part of me,
Of the way I live, breath, eat and sleep.

I write to free the mind.
I sing to free the heart.
I dance to free the soul.

But I act, I act to feel.
To feel emotions that otherwise,
Would never penetrate the barrier
That keeps them shut up inside.

I act to see.
To see a different side in people
Normally left unknown.

I act to find.
To find parts of myself
That I never knew existed.

I act to understand.
To understand the complexities
of the world and it’s inhabitants.

To understand myself
and why I am who I am.

But even with this list of reasons,
I am not yet satisfied with my answers.

Because, above all else,
I do these things for love.

For the love of the words,
the melodies,
the movement.

And for the love that it allows me to feel
For each person that might cross my path
on this journey of life

And so,
I hope that now you can better understand

Why?…Because.