Random Ramblings

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"What does it matter,"
the disheartened creator asks.
"It's all crap anyway,
nobody's going to read it...
So what's the use?"

Manuscripts gather dust,
Lonely stories wait,
in hopes of curious eyes -
hungry minds ready to digest,
words feeding imaginations.

What's the point
in a solitary chef cooking
for only himself?
These hearty meals will spoil,
if left out on empty tables.

A single stranger wanders in,
gazing 'round at the steaming buffet,
eventually filling their plate
with an interesting cuisine
and settling down for a bite.

The culinary artist hides away,
cowering in the kitchen.
Unable to watch their work
be devoured with disdain,
wishing it had a bit more salt.

At length he braves the opinions,
striding out to see an empty dish,
a white napkin dabbing lips,
before the gourmand goes back
for a second helping.

"How is it?" He questions,
steeling himself for the criticism.
The verdict weighs even more
since the dining room is empty:
a single soul judging his fate.

Sweat trickling down a neck,
suspense drags onward
as the reviewer takes another bite.
They look up and smile,
saying simply: "It's good."

Two words, containing nothing
and yet - everything.
A creative mind carries on
sustained by meager validation.
One person was all he needs.