Words
The words get away from me
Sometimes
Like tricky little bandits
Dodging meter
Ducking rhyme
They leave me silently, days
And nights
A bumbling ballerina
Slipping and sliding
In my pink tights
Without them, I have to stutter
And squeak
Where I’m going, not knowing
I’m lost
That’s why I’m so meek
The words are all I have-
It’s true
Inconsistent little rogues
They shatter, then,
Form once more anew
All my words are alive, they are
Different-toned
When it’s only them and me
They can make me lonely, see
But I’m never quite alone
The words, they make my works complete
Each time
On paper where I scribe my voice
They hold a pace, speed
And shape each and every line
I write to keep away
The hurt
The sudden shocks of sadness
The never-ending dissonance that comes
Without the words