This urge to write again engulfs me,
And don’t know I how to quench this thirst
To write but to write; whether it is good
Or bad I don’t know and ‘tis not upon me
To judge, thank God; but strange It is still;
This feeling, I mean; just like that out of
Nowhere and you grab your pen or
A phone and go; and you imbued with a
Feeling of doing something important,
Something worthy; like the only important
Thing in the world now, man, you know;
No good nor bad don’t exist to you:
It is just what you writes and how you
Feel about it; all other assessments saved
For later; right now you just do what you
Are supposed to, what you were born to
Do; something worth living for, maybe the
Only truly worthy thing in the entire world
That’s up to you man, though
Only to you