The Right Addiction
October 24, 2025
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I once had a craving I couldn’t explain— A pull in my soul like a runaway train. It wasn’t for chocolate or money or fame,
I once had a craving I couldn’t explain— A pull in my soul like a runaway train. It wasn’t for chocolate or money or fame,
When my story feels real, as if it must have been done, Yet it sparkles with wonder and shines like the sun, It will tickle
Some people write with their eyes in a haze, Unaware of the hearts they’re passing in a daze. They chatter and shuffle, not hearing a
Some walk through the store with their eyes on floor. They bump into folks as they stroll toward the door. They don’t even notice the
I wanted to write and be good and fast, To finish a story that forever would last. I researched and typed with ambition and flair,
I once met a writer with ink on her hands, Who dreamed of big books and faraway lands. She scribbled and typed through the dark
Some folks work for the cash and the pay. They wait for the weekend and dream of the day. Working for the boss or the
I once heard a tale that was told to me twice, Of a treasure that sparkled and shimmered so nice. But no map was given,
When I was a kid, and I did something right, I grinned ear-to-ear in the warm morning light. A pat on the back or a
Starving for comfort in the midst of my great pain, I searched, with nothing to lose and everything to gain. I tried all the gadgets
I wanted to write, but I didn’t know what to do. My brain turned to jelly. My courage was through. “What if,” I whispered, “my
I once had a feeling, a tingle, a spark, That all would go well on my pathway so dark. But feelings, I learned, can be