Finding Purpose Poem by Charlotte Ballard

I stopped writing when others
Didn’t notice how wonderful I was.
I suddenly think of a child who brags
And tries to prove how wonderful he is
And all I hear is
“love me love me love me
love me love me love me me me
 
Did I do that?
On a more sophisticated level?
Where the mushrooms grow?
Underneath the place I place my id
Before I go to sleep?
 
That’s a new thought
And now I’ve lost it
I need to write to be complete
I need to write to be whole
I need to write to feel joy
I need to write because
To not to was to die a little
To not remember who I am
 
So I quit, two years or more
I don’t remember except it was
A long cold time
When I searched for reason
And found that I was whole
That I had joy
Without writing
Without that scribble
And that I was loved
And loved and loved.
 
But I found no passion
Greater
No driver
Greater
No press
Greater
Than that of expressing
Thoughts on a white pressed place
 
So now I write
And hope that that
Little girl doesn’t need
To scream anymore,
Because I love
I love
I love
And it begins again.i