Choosing Life

Like many things in life,
writing is a decision.
I recently came to this conclusion.
I am not a writing genius,
among many others.

The seed of writing
didn’t just grow
without labour
or care.
Sowing, nourishing, attending
before its flourish,
there has been little sign of beauty.

Many times,
I wanted to give up
and give in.
I questioned myself,
‘Is this worthwhile
if I never see the bloom?’
what is the alternative?
There was this tiny seed,
how could I abort a life?