I see you writing a book
Where do you even start
and don’t tell me to just
Write that one first page
When I can’t even come
Up with an idea of what
It’s going to be about
And it doesn’t matter
How many ideas
You’ll give me
Or how many stories I have to tell
Because none will ever
seem good
Enough
Worthy of this unwritten book
I carry with me
My Maddy Travel 