Power of Poem

Brick by brick,

And stone by stone

A tower grows -

I built alone.

It took me days,

Or months, or years -

And yet I channelled

All my fears.

I built it up;

Its power surges.

My brain was crashing

From the urges

In my head

To make it great,

To fill each brick

With love, with hate.

Each stone - a line,

Each brick - a word.

The poem lies beneath my feet -

Unsaid, unheard.

And yet, the stones

They bring me up

Towards the clouds;

I don’t give up.

Egypt’s Pyramids

Could never have compared

To the all the magic

Spoken words have shared.

A poem written

Is empowering -

It heals the writer

And all those following,

But once it’s spoken

That’s the time

When clocks all stop

Within the rhyme -

The whole world starts

To breathe as one

And in that moment,

Wars are done.

There is no need

To fight or hate

Words have the strength

To mitigate

All of the wounds

The shrieks and sorrows;

They carry magic

On the wings of swallows,

On horses backs,

And within pockets.

The words explode

Like NASA rockets.

A word can hurt

More than a knife,

But it can heal,

And give back life,

And give back hope,

And love, and health,

And it can give the poor

Their wealth -

Because a poem

Can make fate

Seam like a spek

On a huge slate.

It can push problems

Out to sea,

And for that moment

You are free...