the things that force me to write.

why do I write?
I might as well as myself,
why is it that I breath.
there are just some things that we all have to do,
that we need to do,
in order to give life some sort of meaning.
knowing that there will come a time,
when I realize,
that all of this is better then digging a ditch.

that I write because there is nothing else that makes any sense to me.
that there is nothing else that I would rather be doing with my time,
but there have been times when I have wondered why,
but wondering why,
and trying to get away from it all,
just never seems to be the right answer.

so here I am,
praying that I will get heard.