sometimes I don't want
to write poetry , but my
passion for words smile
Only began writing
when I was sad , help myself
back to happy place
so now I question
why I still even write , what
is it all about
i love my family
and life is extremely good
to me..my heart blooms
of course like many
being a mother , brings some
worries when can't help
i love nature too
dam it is so beautiful
it's another world
much prefer fun writes
shows my sense of humour
life to short to cry
of course at times I
feel angry at this cruel world
but beauty exists
pass caring about
people who don't care for me
there loss not mine
so why do I write
not looking for love either
been blessed with enough
in real life i swear
lots of words , ******* hell , ****
Nothing wrong with it
It sure don't make me
a lesser person than I
already am..I'm me
Suffered depression
dam grey nasty moody clouds
fault the ****** lot
So why the hell do
I continue to write , its
a question I ask
Yeap I ask myself
a lot lately , still unsure
as to why I write
