La La La

La La La

It’s all about the writing

 Or it’s all about the coping

 So intermixed and intertwined

Do I live to write or write to live?

 Either way, there is no excuse to play

Games with life to feed emotions- not felt before

 When you see me write 

I’m usually sad or ashamed

 Angry

Selfish

Confused

 Anything but pleased

 I guess I try to find these things in life

 So I will continue to write

For I would rather that than give

 This pen and paper away for good

It’s my best friend

It does not tell

It lets me say anything I feel

Yet I do not have to give details to give myself away

My writing knows the words I speak

The years I live

 Memories I keep

I can write about anything

 Yet sadness still remains

To entertain this hand that will not stop writing

I write and read it in the end

Always discovering my best friend

My writing knows me better

And I get to know me better

From the little brain that must be intertwined

 Between my hand and mind