Somersault/ Why Write?

From being chased by the constant ticking

of the clock announcing time

I am late. Almost always.

Late to rise. Late to write.

And will already be 'late' before anyone

might get to read this.

But write I still will.

Get up as late and stay on the pages as long as I may get

Coursing the pencil across the vast blankness-

a broken star suspended midflight across the firmament.

Yes, I will write.

Not because I have much to say.

Not because I will ever be published or smite fame in the face.

I write because it makes me be

the absolute master of my fate.

I can make the time stand still

or even chase it for a change.

I can make the fish fly and the birds swim.

or make the sun shy and the clouds coy.

I can make the broken mirrors mend without a seam.

And make marriages work and people live

'happily ever after'

Not a poetic licence but much more.

It is my right.

The right to see the world as I wish.

And live for once on the pages

before I go back to dying each day outside.