Commitment

These words I write herein are my daily bread.
The hunger for which gets me past pain & bed.

Spiting my circumstance & the world at large.
I commit my cares to a blankness’s charge.

Spilled out in bulk & then sorted for uses.
Employed by the day as each piece produces.

Basket; left on the digital stoop with a name.
An orphan of ink who is hiding from fame. 

At last adopted by spectacles & eyes.
Hopes of happy endings are worth all the tries.