A Name on a Page

What am I but a name on a page?

My ink turns a blank page to a tale of castles and dragons, a thriller with a killer, a romance that you'd love to give a chance. Those mean nothing if fallen on deaf ears.

Papers pile on the floor, stories and adventures never to be heard since no one bothered to listen. What a waste it becomes over the years.

My name has as much meaning as the eyes recognizing it. If not percieved, the message is not recieved. My existence is thank to the people recognizing such.

Without a creative mind reading creative words, I am but a name on a page.

My ink writes tales of dragons and castles, a romance you'd give a chance, or a description of a prince and his princess during a ballroom dance, but none of it would matter have you not shared your glance.

What am I but a name on a page?

A voice of creativity? An author writing for a crowd? Someone who wants to walk down the street and hear a debate on what someone interprets this very line?

Simply, I am what my name is made to be, my existence is based on your perception. I thank you fro your gift of life.

Ever Humble -Aiero