When I write something
I give it all I have,
All my grains of soul extracted
after scratching the surface
with the spur of the moment.
When you read what I write,
do you see me in it?
or do you just see words?
If you see me,
do you see me as
you know me?
or do you see me
as I see myself?
Do you feel the blood
throbbing through my veins?
My eyes had a spark when I wrote;
I want you to tell me
that that spark was worth something;
Worth more than things usually are
in this world of ours.
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