To live, to breath, connect, to see this place

Without writing, what would we be?

Like a canvas with no paint, space

Within this world would seem so lonely.

Would a canvas white be less appealing

Its white decaying with no real purpose

Than one with strokes of color glistening, 

Colors so bright that speak to connect us.

Writing is the art that connects us all

The power of the where, how, why of its story.

A gift given to human minds that saw 

How it could make the blind eyes of hearts see.

Truly imagine what this world would be

Without the words that tell of worlds unseen.