My promise And My Words.

I promise you with everything
that I have in me and
with every word that I never
had the chance to say,
I will be a writer.

I swear to you that
I will have my time.

I promise that I will one
morning find my book in a store.
It may be crowded between
much more admired ones,
but it’ll be there.

Waiting for somebody to
stop and give it a long
deserved look.
Just one.

But it’ll be there.
I swear it will.

It may not be somebody’s
favorite thing to read.
It may not even make sense.
Maybe it’ll just be scribbled
words pressed together.

But it’ll be my words.

It’ll be my something to carry
with me when I feel my
strength draining.

But it’ll be there.
I swear it will.

My published book may not
even be written too well.
It might end up garbage.
It might be stuffed in somebody’s
closet long forgotten.
Never even read.

The pages might be torn in
the corner from always
marking a place.

Maybe the cover would be
dusty and the picture faded.
But it’ll be my cover.

And forever will be my words.