Why write of personal truth;
Of love sacred, of persona conveyed
If only fifteen followers will read?

Of the lot, twelve will understand,
Nine will appreciate,
And six will feel.

Four will tear.
Three will call.
Two will comment
And one will sit,

Cautiously perplexed
And log it away.

You will unearth my moment, One
that is begging for immortality.

You, One, are why I write.