I Wrote Some Words

I wrote some words,
On a page,
And I kind of think you'll like them,
But I'm scared.

It's not your judgement,
Or your praise;
Not your queries,
Nor your raves that I require.

No, it's your truths.
Do you like them,
Do they work?
Are the words what you wanted?

When I put them down, all I could think;
All I could wish, hope, and dream
Was that you would tell me the truth.

Do my words make sense;
Do they sit in the right order;
Are they colourful, bright, and stunning;
Or are the plain, dead, and dull?

Don't lie to me,
It won't hurt me
If you tell me the truth.

These words, they're mine,
They're a story I'm trying to tell,
and even if you don't like it I want to know.

I want you to tell me if my story hurts you,
If it makes you cry,
If it makes you laugh.
I want you to tell me who, what, where, and why
You've read my story.

Why; why do I seek your truths,
Not your kind words or your lies?
Because this story is mine,
It's the truth of my life.

And if you lie about what you think of it,
You lie about what you think of me.
Is my life so far rubbish;
or have I made a difference?
Do you love me, hate me,
Maybe feel indifferent?

Please, just tell me,
I want to know.
I seek you out, I call to you,
To ask.

There, see, now we've met.
You've read my story,
I'll read yours if you like,
But tell me, what do you think?

Am I worth it;
This time you've taken,
This story you've read,
Was it worth it?

The life of this person,
Their time here on Earth,
Was it worth it;
Or was it just another life,
Indiscernible from the rest,
Insignificant and short.

Tell me, and I'll tell you:
Every life has merit,
Every life has drawbacks,
But every life is unique.

We think,
We see,
We move, we do.
We all effect each other,
And we're all significant.

And so here,
Take these words,
I wrote them on this page.
Take them, share them, hold them,
And think.

In your hands you hold a life;
My life.
Please, be nice to it,
But if you don't like it,
Say so.
You won't hurt me,
I'm not made of glass;
I'm paper and ink,
Flesh and Blood,
And I'm living with you.

Even when I'm gone,
I'll be with you.
My story, it goes on,
And so long as you hold on,
So do I.
 - My original composition, I Wrote Some Words, Feb 2012.

Here's a little rough draft of some random poetry that I'm doing. It's something that popped into my head while I was writing part of a story, and I just thought I'd share for now. Any thoughts?