I happily beta for writers far more talented than I. Like Igor without the hunchback.

Sometimes I guess I write too.

I'm almost like them
We're almost the same
I'm just a bit slower
And hidden and plain
I could blend with their movement
Their flash and their flight
But I, unlike them
Can just fade out of site
And be one with the grass
And the rough tree bark
And while they seek the light
I lust for the dark
They rush for the sun
In a mad dash for fame
While I let myself burn
In the low candle flame
In the end of our fleeting
Crazed flight through the skies
I remain a lone moth
Between butterflies..