No one appreciates what they see
every day. You write but no one reads
what you write anyway. All you
ever wanted is to leave your own special

mark on the world, an indelible one
that can’t come out in the wash of tears,
if there are any that even fall. Or maybe they’ll
only skim the surface of your soul

like someone in the bookstore
that goes past the shelf where your book
sits with all these classy ones next to it.