I can’t stop writing; my hand is a lava flow,
There are those who are trying to stop me,
For reasons I don’t know,
But still I pick up a pen and write from my heart.
So what if I don’t have proper grammar,
Isn’t poetry meant to come from the soul?
When I write, it is a river racing,
The current gushing with untamed emotion.
When I write, I don’t think, I feel,
Express myself in terms that I understand.
I don’t write for you, I write for me,
Words that sometimes beg for love and understanding,
This is called dealing with this bitch
Of a world where people fight
But I don’t need to fight, coz in my reality,
That consists of a notebook full of love poetry,
That consists of a person whose love makes the day shine in harmony,
I am at the top of the mountain peak,
No dark clouds in the horizon.
I can’t stop writing, because it is my life,
And I’ll write HOW I want because that is
What free style - not to mention, freedom of speech
Is all about.
