If I wrote for one person,
it would be for a sun reason.
Early in the morning rise,
I'd write bright sun to eyes.
All through the day,
I'd write for a fun play.

Stepping outside my being,
I view in at my nothing.
As I looked at my own frown,
I try to write a smile abound.
Any pain and suffering,
I'd try to write a joy offering.

This is the least one can do,
peeping inside a picture of blue.
Painting a scene of gloom,
to bring joy into its room.
Writing in a great big sun shinning,
might get a heart and soul grinning.

Writing for one person reading,
might touch another soul bleeding.
We're not in this world stone,
neither are our words alone.
We're alone writing words,
but they can fly like birds.

One person inking,
might get another thinking.
Everyone writing,
might make the world more exciting.
But with no one to read,
it may be a one person need,
still a mind bleed,
flow un-fertile seed.

G