Sitting, minding my own business
Watching the world all around
When I felt a tap on my shoulder
Twisted to look behind
And saw a man, genial, jeans, button-down plaid shirt, glasses.
"Do I know you?" I asked perplexed.
"The World needs you," his only reply.
I gulped, "Who me? You must have the wrong person."
"Do you have two hands?" he asked.
Dropped my gaze to my hands
Examined them, chapped, jagged fingernail
Torn hangnail on one thumb
But they were there and they worked.
"Um...yeah," I said.
"Do you have two arms and two legs?
Got a voice? Got ears? Got a dollar? Got any time?"
I took a mental inventory.
"Yeah, I do."
"Then the world needs you."
"Who me? I'm nobody special.
I can't change the world.
I think you've got the wrong person."
"No, I'm pretty sure you're the one.
Got a heart don't you? You care when someone's hurt.
Got a place to live don't you? Got food to eat?
You're breathin' aren't you?"
"Then you're the one."
"Me? What can I do? I'm just one person."
"You've got a story, and someone out there needs to hear it.
Better pick up your pen and get busy."