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Writing is tough, i mean who cares about this stuff.
Laboring over a piece of paper, or a screen where keypads are struck.
To create material, to entertain and or enlighten us.
Those who do it, and those who really read it, even those not as much.
To captivate minds and imagination with a personal touch.
From stories that may be from our lives, like love, pain and such.
Maybe a view of politics, or even social justice.
A bit of fantasy, fiction serves a useful purpose.
Watching the sun go down, searching the soul for content.
Sleepless, trying to calm a restless spirit.
To transfer the mental, into physical, to be a readable topic.
But what fans the flames of strangers interest.
Swinging in the dark, it's hit and miss.
To aim into the heart of the uncertain.
The unknown, without promise.
Regardless, we empty what's inside, those of who have it inside us.
Absent of care from judgemental, showing prowess.
Combating the oppression of expression to facilitate the awakening.
Connecting into the energy of purpose in which why we exist.
Communicating a message that can be tapped into by relevance.
By giving titles to the feature of presentation.
That we unwrap when gifted with something to present.
