Reasons

I wish I was like you.
You say that I am a good writer,
When all that I have done
Is show the world a side of me
That before, none had ever seen.
Long have I walked
The path of Loneliness,
Cast adrift, and at the mercy
Of the stormy seas,
With no anchor,
And no port in sight.
But I fight on,
My pride refuses to let me take
The easy way out.
My writing is my way
Of reaching out to others.
For in the process of finding myself,
I have found out just how precious
True friends can be.