Why I Write?

I write because I can make words dance, on tunes that are faint, unheard,

I have delusions that generations to come, will croon on my every word.

They'll dissect me bare and try to discern, what I meant with that play of words,

How my themes blended the vastness of the sky, with the misery of the caged birds.

 

I write because I get goosebumps, on coming up with a turn of phrase,

While drowning in the word salad, can pierce to the heart of the maze.

Enthralled by the beauty that words can paint, that silences but reinforce,

I make art daily as a duty to the world, as a therapy I wholeheartedly endorse.

 

I write because I can throw a light, and hold a mirror to the times,

Cut to the chase like no one can, though there will always be poets a dime.

Reveal not the specifics of this milieu, but what is enduring and surely true of ages,

Of how since the time immemorial, we have been singing of the skies from our cages.

 

I write because I can create magic, make you new possibilities see,

Spark a revolution, dismantle the cage, and set the birds free.