I don’t have the answers,
Not yet anyway;
The questions building up inside me,
Torturing me till date;
Maybe if I say it out loud,
The voices would refrain;
But the truth Is dear voices,
Even I don’t know what to say;
Though I might be a writer,
I don’t know why I write everyday.
Maybe it’s to make a difference,
make a change, leave my name.
Stamp my mark in the sand of time,
leave my footprint in peoples heart;
Lessen the burden my heart weighs,
pour out frustrations my head can’t take;
Maybe a little less, maybe more-
Maybe it’s none of the things above.
Until I do find the answers,
to the questions that you pose-
Dear voices, bear with me,
As I write the time away…