I can’t write poetry. I’ve tried to write it, but my efforts have always been terrible.
I can’t write music. I love music and I’m deeply moved by its magic — both words and lyrics — but I have no talent for writing songs.
I tried to write poetry and music when I was young. I even have a few samples of my attempts at verse. They’re awful but even through the awfulness of the bad art, I can feel the anguish of what I was trying to express when my pen wrote the words on paper.
For most of my life, I’ve felt a deep sense of longing. A sense of need. A panic. A fear. An emptiness that craved filling.
When I feel that — as I desperately do tonight — I feel an incredible urge to express it. My heart feels as though it’s going to explode in my chest. There’s so much I want to say — to express, to feel, to confess — and words aren’t ever enough.

Student scolded for saving a life; School doesn’t ‘condone heroics’
With NASA getting out of the way, free market heads to outer space
N.C. Eagle Scout can’t graduate after accidentally bringing gun to school
U.S. debt per capita worse than basket cases such as Greece
Didn’t we already try secession? Politicians don’t like losing control
Folks all around are waiting for someone to say, ‘Hello in there’
We’re all prisoners of a culture which demands that we conform