| 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. |