Tearful Rewards.

I write, I feel I have to,
A desire from inside that I cannot explain,
I weave stories, thoughts and ideas,
Whether in verse or in prose, or by another name.
I spin the words, I like to rearrange,
I offer new phrasings, and structures,
I use them as footprints in the sand,
Of a life that leaves a past in the future.

So if I touch someone, and they feel me deep inside,
An emotion brought to the surface with a tear in their eye,
My job is done, and I can leave with a smile,
Close the door to pick up the pen, and speak of a life defiled.