I find it hard to communicate
Using words that flow from my mouth
These words are supposed to explain how I feel
Yet, they never will come out
It's easier putting a pen to paper
Of typing it until your fingers bleed
Because the readers on the other side of a computer
Do not personally know me
Yes it's true I have close friends who read this
But it doesn't matter how close they seem
Each poem unravels a new part of my life
Some seem as though they were made from mere dreams
If I can write for my pure satisfaction
And relate to others along the way
Then of course I'll be glad to keep writing
I'll write one once a day
There are a lot of poems I've written
Some do not make me proud
Yet others that take my idea into depth
Make it easier for me to want to be around
I'm unsure as to why I started writing
But I can tell you that I'm glad I did
If it wasn't for these poems I've written
I don't know where I would have ran and hid
