Who am I?

They all looked at me strangely. Finally one of them asked bluntly. “ Are you a writer?”
I smiled sadly at this and shook my head in denial. “ No,” I said.
Another one faced me squarely and with equal bluntness asked. “Are you a poet?”
I sighed, hung my head and said. “No, im afraid im not.”
“Then what are you?” the question was asked forcefully this time.
I stood to leave and said. “ I am neither a writer nor a poet. I am just someone who found so much freedom in writing.”
And with that I turn and left.
Cy09.04.05