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.