When you work ya **** of on a piece and others ignore it out of ignorance or because life is a tidal wave and your swimming against it, but no because sometimes you cant read everything others eyes linger past. Reading all the worst of poets for what they are. Emotions, lives & all in-between. I despise the well if ya haven't read mine or commented I'm drifting past. This isn't why we write, its because words, syllables are our calling to each, a calling some never hear or understand why we write so much.