P e r h a p s



As I put down my pen, I know someone, somewhere is picking up theirs.
I know that someone, somewhere is playing a guitar for the first time.
I know that someone, somewhere is dipping a paintbrush and marking a field of white.
I know that someone, somewhere is singing a song that’s never been sung.
Perhaps someone, somewhere will create something so beautiful and moving, it will change the world.
Perhaps that somewhere is here.
Perhaps that someone, is you.