When I Write

When I Write

When I write,
It seems like,
All dire things disappear.
People love me,
There is no odium against me,
And for a moment,
I get praised.
My heart flies,
My spirit soars;
But only for a moment,
Then it goes.

But it's for those brief moments
Those fleeting seconds
That I endure the befores and afters
And I write.