I could dry my skin and be like the bark
As one day I may sprout like a tree
Once again
But never in the moments to pass
Can I survive and be content
With thoughts that aren’t mine
Even if conjured up for a good cause

Because I write for the mind
As I am of the mind
And though I love the natural pass
The whim of the willow and waves which crash
Know this about me
I am as selfish as any human can be
So please appreciate it when it’s for you

Because most of the time my prose are for me