Poem: Can’t Walk Away from Writing

I’ve tried to leave the page behind,
To silence ink and still the mind.
But words return like breath and flame—
They haunt me soft, they call my name.

I lock the door, they find the key,
They bloom in cracks relentlessly.
A line will tap upon my chest,
A thought that will not let me rest.

They come at dusk, they come at dawn,
When all the world feels pale and gone.
A whisper builds, then floods the day—
And still, I say I’ll walk away.

But fingers twitch, the pen draws near,
The blank page bends to catch a tear.
I bleed in verses, raw and bare—
And every wound finds solace there.

This isn’t choice, or idle game,
It’s fire without a name.
A burden, gift, a quiet fight—
A voice that burns to turn to light.

So let me curse it, praise it too—
This craft I’m chained and married to.
No matter where I go or stray,
The words won’t let me walk away.

Thank-you for reading.

Remember there are many paths back to God.

Follow your own path,

Brenda Marie