We Writers Are a Driven People
We Writers Are A Driven People,
Our emotions haunt us, till our words pour out before us.
We ache, we laugh, we love and we hate,
And somehow, we have to touch you and relate.
We are the story-tellers, like the days of old –
When sometimes words were all they had-
To fight back fear, their hunger or even the cold.
They watched people hang on their every word,
And they knew they touched hearts
Or sometimes they just touched a raw nerve.
We are the story-tellers of our times.
Some of us quite loquacious, or verbose –
And some us are just enough to make the toast!
But thoughts and emotions burn inside our heads,
Till we write it all down, or tell it at the side of someone’s bed.
We are driven people, driven by words packed with feeling,
We feel quite strong if our thoughts left your head reeling.
Stop by and read us and try to comprehend, if you dare,
You’ll find by our words, just how much we might care.
We are driven sometimes to impale with our words,
If you hurt us, we’ll show you that words can make you bleed,
If you have extended a kind and loving hand,
We may sing your praises and thank you, cuz you took a stand.
We love our words, we hate them, we entice them and reject them.
Words can give us wings and take us damn near to the gates of heaven,
Or they can drag our very being and soul through the verbal mud.
We writers are driven and can be quite untamed,
Yet we are the ones that made taming the shrew a word game!
It’s love affair, in every sense of the word affair.
My sense of who am, lies here naked and bare.
You’re allowed a peek into my heart and my head.
And I know I’ll probably be this driven, till the day I am dead.
3/19/2004
Our emotions haunt us, till our words pour out before us.
We ache, we laugh, we love and we hate,
And somehow, we have to touch you and relate.
We are the story-tellers, like the days of old –
When sometimes words were all they had-
To fight back fear, their hunger or even the cold.
They watched people hang on their every word,
And they knew they touched hearts
Or sometimes they just touched a raw nerve.
We are the story-tellers of our times.
Some of us quite loquacious, or verbose –
And some us are just enough to make the toast!
But thoughts and emotions burn inside our heads,
Till we write it all down, or tell it at the side of someone’s bed.
We are driven people, driven by words packed with feeling,
We feel quite strong if our thoughts left your head reeling.
Stop by and read us and try to comprehend, if you dare,
You’ll find by our words, just how much we might care.
We are driven sometimes to impale with our words,
If you hurt us, we’ll show you that words can make you bleed,
If you have extended a kind and loving hand,
We may sing your praises and thank you, cuz you took a stand.
We love our words, we hate them, we entice them and reject them.
Words can give us wings and take us damn near to the gates of heaven,
Or they can drag our very being and soul through the verbal mud.
We writers are driven and can be quite untamed,
Yet we are the ones that made taming the shrew a word game!
It’s love affair, in every sense of the word affair.
My sense of who am, lies here naked and bare.
You’re allowed a peek into my heart and my head.
And I know I’ll probably be this driven, till the day I am dead.
3/19/2004
