Forced To Write

What about this space

White and clean  with  lines

for hanging words in

neat rows, wild words

that stray and scatter

across the sheet of

lines like fugitive

sheep on the hillside

fleeing that piercing

whistle that calls the

the barking blur of

fearsome distant memory

But why bother, Who

cares for my words

why write for the

no-one who will read

these wild words,

they can’t care ,

non-existence has

no cares or fears

So why bother ?

But I do, !!!

I Do !!!!,

I DO.

Forced To Write