You write about what you see.

You write about what could be, what should be.

You write to narrate others’  lives.

You write in order to survive.

You write because you feel oppressed, depressed.

You write because you’re mad.

You write because you feel the strength
when the pen is in your hand.

You write because the words sound smoother
then when they come from your mouth.

You write because you hear the music
and have to find the words.

You write because you see the beauty
in everything on Earth.

You write because you see the story
when you look in someone’s eyes.

You write because quantifying your thoughts
can be too hard to do in your head.

You write because you love the feeling
of the weight off of your chest.

You write because there’s no other channel
for which your passion you can express.

You write because there’s nothing better
than letting your voice be heard.

You write because without that voice
your life would be obscured.

Gone away
far away
don't understand,
why you had to leave me.

I wonder,
everyday,
if maybe, you're not that far away.

If you're listening,
in heaven,
i want you to know,
i didn't want you to go.

So tell me,
do angels cry?
do they ever wonder why, they died?
do they cry?