I find it sweet that people care
To lend their hearts to words I share
But to this I caution a word or two
(though its something you already knew).

From my own life they were not found
No… I observe the life around
I look at you, at them, at we
And from time to time, I look at me

Sometimes I write to me in past
I am not there – it did not last
So don’t feel bad or wish me well
I better than words could tell.

Sometimes I write to stubborn friends
Who are not yet ready to make ammends
They’ll ride out their stormy sea
And in the end come search for me

At least this one, she always does
The reason for it is because
She knows that I’m forever there
For I cannot help but always care.

I write for those I think about
Who dare not hope, so filled with doubt
What must it be like to fill their shoes
To live ones life emersed in blues?

So write I must and write I do
But when you read, I beg of you
Don’t feel pity; don’t frown for me
I’m as blessed as blessed can be

I write to express some wayward goal
Perhaps to tap another’s soul
But you who write, I am sure you know
How true this is… so now I’ll go.