I have thoughts.
I have ideas.
I have the hope.
But I also have fear.
Fear that my efforts will cause me pain.
Fear that all of the effort will be in vain.
No one cares about the words in a story.
No one would ever know of the defeats or glory.
I create out of want and,
When I'm happy with the creation,
I try to share it with others,
To get a bit of appreciation.
No one bothers to view it,
For they see reading as a chore.
If I don't force myself to hope,
I won't care anymore.