Write

My last 2 stories were writen only fo rmy little sisters amusement. This one is very serious though. I wrote it because my friend had a problem with me spending so much time on writing. It's about why i write and why i'll never stop. I didn't break it up because it's like a cross between a poem and just a thought. There isn't any pattern either because it was written out of pure emotion, i just sat down and let it flow. Anyway, please tell me what you think!

~Mercedes

Many times I ask myself, "is this pen ever going to take me anywhere?" Do I have enough talent? Do I have enough flare? Will i ever bring that spark i feel in my heart to another though words? Or will i sit here forever drowning in the pain of defeat? but, i must make it somewhere. I love this more then almost anything i've ever had. The feeling i et when I, little insignificant I, can string words in a way that lets my unpopularity, lack of confidence, the horror of the world melt away. I want, I need to keep this. And if when i've tried and endured and finally found that my gift, my only gift for this pen isn't there or weak at heart, I want to stop breathing, stop my heart beating, stop living then and there. I won't let it happen, not to me. Would God ever really take this gift from me? This pen, my words, is most everything i have. If it's lost so am i. The idea of it brings tears to my eyes. Now, i hope you see the pain and love that lives in me, all due to this pen i hold in my hand. I hope you feel it, within yourselves too. i hope through my words, *my* words comes me.

I don't know if it makes sense to many, maybe only me, or maybe only writers or all artists. the point is....write.