That's What I Do

I sit alone and let it attack,

Let it pass, never fight back,

Then, I beg some memories to take me,

It's weird, they're good and yet, break me!

Then there's the mirror, claiming itself as honest and fair,

I stand there and see a girl smile, and of course, that's rare!

I mess more with the stupid ideas in my brain,

Then there comes night, letting me cry and drain.

The morning brings chirping and dew,

I search for clear ideas and I find a few,

So, after sleepless nights and fingers turning cold due to rain,

I sit determined to make people smile and start writing again.

A headache hammers me, my heart turns hollow,

Drizzle from outside echoes, asking grief to follow.

I close my eyes, and see images of me standing in a lonely sad town,

But I shake it off, collect pieces of grief and burn them down.

Then, I paint a happy place in my eyes,

My pen rejoices and my heart sighs,

I write good things, and write some more again, just so that some smiles can reach you,

Then satisfied, I turn and let it attack again, for I'm a poet and that's what I do!!!