Why do we write?

Is it because it is mandatory?

Is it because we are bored with the useless things we do in our day?

Is it the imagination of our minds that we can never have is projected into words that make our reality?

Is it the sad desperation of our pathetic lives that leads us to conjure up false fantasies that we so greatly want to
replace our lives with?

Why do we write?

Why do we bother to put words onto paper that no one bothers to read?

Why do we keep writing love stories when our love no longer exists?

Why do we create such beautiful words to explain feelings that we cannot?

Better yet, why do we think we can run away from ourselves?

Why do we write?

We don't we create.

What?

What do I create?

Me?

Why do I write?

How can you ask that?

I write because I simply can