365 Poems: February 4th, 2014


The world runs on creativity.

Sure, a man can spend his entire life

sitting in the middle of an empty plane,

but someday he will begin to think.

Someday the ideas will begin

as a little spark in his mind;

a tiny point of existence,

and they will grow.

They will spread to new points

in a never-ending game of connect-the-dots

and become lines and shapes;

words and colors;

and when the thoughts are so heavy,

so massive they will splash out into the empty void

and paint us a picture

of past, present, and future

all drawn out by Earth’s truly renewable resource.


in a sense,

we are all creative

and the sky would have never been blue

if someone hadn’t named it.


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