Sit down son and let me tell you a tail of a man and his dog out on the trail.

Sir, that’d be nice but I really must go, you told me to write and I have words to sow. The ground is fertile, the paper is blank, the letters spill out as I turn the crank.

Now hold on a minute, don’t use much haste, for such rapid writing will surely make waste.

I solemnly swear to write no bad, nothing vapid, crass, or even sad.

That’s a mighty fine sentiment I hear from your mouth but I fear you know little of what you’re talking about. See years of life must be lived full of choices and from there your stories can have many voices.

So you’re telling me that the voice of the young, is one that you’d rather stay silent, unsung? I am valid, I am precious, I matter you see. I must write in order to BE!

I hear and understand what you’re saying and I don’t desire your feelings to be playing. Young ideas are bold, full of whimsy, but that isn’t to say that they’re all quite flimsy. Forge knowledge to wisdom, then write your story, Experience is king, not living for glory!