Someone once asked me why I
write
Why I put pen to paper
And draw the world into word.
Why I let flowing syllibants fly
on
Wings of joyous sighs and
blue/black
Blublack nigga ink/inc...
Its quite simple really.
I write because it is given
my gift and my curse
To only be able
to drip my
honey- sweet
spit my
venom-fire
On the page.
To let the real me
Live in my words cause
The world is trying
To kill her.
I write because it is my
pleasure/pain/sorrow/elation/manic/depression
Because therapy is too DAMN expensive
And a sistas got issues.
I write because Ilive and
I live because I write.
And as long as I have breath in me
My song will travel
Through this world
Through this blood
My blood/ink
word/life
life-love.
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