the writer

Apr 12, 2008 - 10:25 AM PST

Feeling so nervous in front of the crowd
Eyes gazed open as your voice echoes so loud
Proud of what you are doing
Yet fearful of what they’ll say
Will they praise?
Or forget you existed here on this day

Should you receive applause or silence?
Will you reach failure or triumph?
It’s like a guessing game, you could say, at its finest
One with no rules and one where you have no alliance

A game you make
As you grab their attention with every word you state
You are the play maker
And you create your own
You are a writer, this is your fate

To pursue ideas
To fuel their fears
Excite their emotions
And penetrate their tears

You are a writer until you are dead
You live for the soul existence of knowing
Not everything
Has been said