As I place these words
Oh so carefully chosen
Onto this paper
I turn my gaze towards the night sky
And it is at that point
That I then look inward
And ask myself
Why?

Why have I chosen this path?
A path filled with words
Words that have meaning
Not only to me
But at the same time
To you
Filling your heart and soul
Warming the very core
Of your being
And giving me an abundance
Of pure ecstasy
That no drug on this earth
Could ever do

I then ask again
Why?

Why
Did I choose to pick up
A pen
Rather than holstering
A gun?

A gun may be loud
But words
Words are loud too
And in their silence
They are even louder

A man can do more
With the lead of his pencil
Than with the lead
From a bullet
That shoots out of a gun
Like the ink that
Spills out of my pen
Rather than spilling
The blood of another

So once again
I find myself staring
Staring at the same night sky
But rather than wondering “Why?”
It is in this moment
I finally know
“Why?”