Words are wonderful beautiful things
full of happiness excitement and love
yet also filled with sadness and depression
along with anger and betrayel
they are full to the brim with every emotion imaginable
Most words are similar yet unique
but my words are the most unique of all
some may be similar to me
but that is rare
my words are different, unusual
as most flow from mind to mouth
the spoken words you see
and most speak their mind
but me...I do not speak my mind
I am not verbose
or i can never find the right words to be spoken
my words are trapped in the iron cell of my mind
wishing badly to escape, but cannot find it
they cannot flow from mind to mouth
or the correct ones cannot
or there are simply no words for what I feel
There is but one way for my words to flow
that is from mind to hand
literature is my stand
my words flow from mind to hand
from hand to pen
from pen to paper
from paper to the world
to the world to inform them of my words
or to instruct the young and old of my ways
for friends and family to understand
yet how could I ever show my words
for my feelings are there to not just bring life to them
but to protect me, my words, my mind
to but show them would betray my feelings
to betray myself
yet i wish, I desire, I yearn to show my words
so the world may yet to undedstand me
so it seems an impossibility
because yet I yearn to keep my words
such a selfish thing
but I am two parts of a whole
I can not have one side without the other
or better yet a midpoint
on both sides, but not really
I stick out as a dot of black amongst a white background
I am unique different,
my words, my life
they flow from mind to hand
from hand to pen
to pen then paper
and then from paper to the world
so the world has yet to see my mind