Unread words

 When I walk away from writing, it's as if I have left a piece of myself behind. My pen leaves everyday sights and sounds untouched, and my imagination hides itself.

I feel like a half-written song whose melody stops halfway home, leaving someone to pick up where I left off.

I purposely do this to myself to understand how important it is for me to continue even if my words are never read.

I sometimes wonder if centuries from now, my work will be discovered in an old cardboard box tucked away in a hoarder's garage, doomed to a moldy death, or maybe discovered by a bargain hunter who cashes in on the stories of a simple man from years past whose only wish was to tell his stories and bring a smile, maybe a tear, to a reader he'd never meet.

Mike 2025