Why I write
You don’t see the world through the same eyes,
Feel the same way, tell the same lies.
You don’t live where I live,
Have the same friends,
Have any true idea,
How far my imagination extends,
Into both thoughts that are right,
And thoughts that are wrong,
But what we do share,
Is warm regard for a bong,
So it’s to you who I confess,
My feelings, my ideas, and my stress,
In the hope that some of you might share,
The same feelings that I bear.
I write the words how I want them to be read,
They come straight from the feelings in my heart and the thoughts in my head
why i write
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