For the readers to decide

how my words become theirs, shaped by the eyes that read them.

I haven't written in months,
not thought of a single line
to make me want to pick up my pen
and turn my feelings into words.

Then leave it out in the open
for the vultures to pick apart,
taking what they can from it
and leaving me with scraps on a page.

Changing the meaning of the verses
to fit into the readers’ situations,
to match their woes and worries
and fill their minds with comfort

Comfort of knowing you’re not alone,
or maybe that’s just how I feel
when I read the reviews
and see all the different ways

Different ways the words are interpreted
Different meanings drawn
But somehow all fitting
to the reason this was written.