Why am I a Writer?

Why am I a writer? Or why do words play
An important role in my life?
I longed to be a sportsman when
I was a child, but it was very late
When I recognized that my body
Could not live up to my spirit.

Then I longed to be an engineer,
But I became confused when the lessons
Of physics advanced to deep realms of
Technology; and then my mind
Toyed with the idea of becoming an actor,
But destiny was to put me in obscurity.

I dreamed to migrate to Europe and
Mingle with the people and the affairs there,
But money played an important role and
That was the thing I did not have.
Nor could I do business, for that
Same reason, and I was at my wits end.

The beautiful nature then gave me pleasure,
I planted a lot of trees around my house.
I liked all the birds and animals and
Loved the virtuous people all around.
I took my pen and started writing
About this wonderful world and its beings,
Good, bad, virtues, evil and the habit
Led me to a field where I could find pleasure.

The great bards have gone and
Writing no longer seduces the young,
But I pray to the muse who inspired the greats
To give me the guts to continue
The art of creating joy with words.
There will be at least a minority
Who will support my will, I hope.