Why I write                                                    

By D. E. Allen

A pain felt but not spoken, can crush you deep inside.

But when read aloud in public, there is nowhere it can hide.

A joyful memory is only that, it's greater when openly shared.

If not written and read it will just fade away, as if nobody cared.

I write to make others happy, I write to make them cry.

I write with haste to get it all out on paper, before the day I die.

I write to entertain you, to make you feel, and make you think.

My writing does that for most of you, yet others it drives to drink.

In closing my dear compatriots, my fellow writers, near and far.

I wish you words that flow like rivers of rhyme, good fortune and a guiding star.