All it takes is one person
To pull a poem out of the stack and say
“This is good, people should see it”
Never mind the other contenders
Or the fact that it’s been sitting there
Under a pile of other feelings, pages, works
For so long that it’s warped and dusty
Because one person likes it
And shared it with the world
And suddenly it’s a masterpiece
Even if it’s not
But that’s a beautiful thing, albeit frustrating
Because all it takes is one person