We set it out, for all to see, word by word.  Like tombstones in a cemetery, bearing witness to
our thoughts.  Which allows ourselves, yet again, a brief respite from reality.  For within our
blood sings poetry.  Our tears cry its rythym.  Our determination its rhyme.  And within the
prose and verse we post, we relate to others like ourselves each time.  It was at that moment,
upon my first poem going out onto the net that I realized.  I am not that unique after all.