Why I Write

March 4, 2021

Perhaps I need to confess,
That lately I have been depressed,
And even with friends and family I feel lonely.
We go through life each day,
Each making our own way,
Cutting through the chaff and the baloney.

I have family, and I have friends,
But late at night, in the end,
There is no one to talk to after a while.
Would it be sanctimonious,
If I simply embraced my loneliness,
Even knowing it is a dangerous spiral?

I really can’t stop writing,
For if I do, I will begin crying,
About nothing and everything at once.
It has been like this for a while,
Trapped behind a tell tale smile,
For perhaps years and not just months.