Why do i write?

i dont know what im trying to say anymore
but then again ive never been really sure
im trying to explain away the reasons i write
but if i read my stuff, its there in black and white
this is my soul speak, my emotional faucet
i dont even realise that i am doing it
my fustration is transformed into words
all my fascination, my joy and my hurts
in a big bundle like snapshots of my mind
I dont completely know why i write all the time

but im starting to see a glimmer

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i have been thinking about why i write poetry and im still not sure. i am always going to have to mull it out.

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