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By Mandy Doerr

Could I live without writing?

At one time I may had said "yes",
But now I know better . . .
For the need to write is a demon inside me,
Haunting me in my quiet moments--
Possessing me whenever I let my mind wander.

An addiction it has become.
The more I write--
The more I need to write--
Until I begin to care not what others see in my work.

Paradoxically strange--
It is those works which I write only for my benefit
That are praised the most.

Then I must look inside myself
And accept that despite what I had been told,
I have something worth sharing
With those around me--
Something that can only come
From the depths of my soul.

Then I look at those around me and wonder:
What treasures are hidden
In the depths of their souls?


copyright © 1999, Amanda D. Doerr