Moryn Hagee

Writing’s Purpose

Imagine a life without words.
Poetry would become nothing but ink stained flowers. Expression would only be in color and emotion. Written history would be lost to memory.
I cannot think of what my life would be like without the ability to transform my thoughts into words.
Writing is my art,
my voice,
my ability to understand others and myself.
Writing is my savior.
Words used to fill my mind, dragging me somewhere far away from the sunlight. People wanted to know why my head hurt, but my mouth was unable to sound out the words that cut through my mind constantly; so I would just let them stay there, and try to keep my eyes calm as my stability quickly crumbled.
Finally, a pen was put in my hand. I was told to start writing. I was told that maybe if I was not able to get the words through my mouth, I could get them through this pen and on to paper; this magical pen would bring the serenity that I longed for.
And it worked.
I wrote through free verse, through stories, through characters that were everything I wished to be. I found control. I found release. I could now be heard, finally understood.
From that moment on, I realized the importance of writing.
Writing can help you define who you are, not only to others, but to yourself as well. Your words can create stories that heal someone’s broken skin or give their tired eyes sleep.
Writing can bring change.
Words have more power than weapons or punches. Speeches create new generations, develop faith out of ashes, and start new flames in people’s hearts that were close to burning out.
Words can bring you warmth from the freezing winds of loneliness.
A letter in the mail, with words printed softly showing adoration, can make one feel like the person is right there with you, arms ready to embrace you. Writing from someone you love can make you ache with joy, replacing the splintering pain of emptiness.
Words can open eyes.
Billboards with bold letters spark insight. Editorials in the New York Times depict lives of those on the streets, struggling with poverty, that people in penthouses would have never heard of if it were not for these writings.
Writing captures memories.
A simple piece of paper captures the founding of our country, the achievement and pride of our people.
The pains of slavery. Each whip on their back, each separation from their loved ones, each tear that burned their skin, can be found, felt, and remembered from a scribbled piece of parchment.
Words created the beauty of love, the silence of winter, and the triumph of reform. Writing keeps people alive long after they die. It keeps inspiration hot and burning in people’s hearts.
Writing keeps me grounded and passionate.
Without writing, our culture would be lost.
Words are an art form that everyone can master.
We just need to trust in ourselves, close our eyes and let the words find their way to the paper.
Writing will and always has given us our future.