Words

I wish I could own you, form you, shape you, hone you

into my own creation, but you are too numerous to broad to catch in one line

so I grab you each day and try to craft you into what I would like to say

funny thing is, it never seems to come out the way I mean it to, but yet I find I must still speak

each syllable, each enunciation, each opening of my mouth brings me closer to you

strange though, I find your power greatest in the form of ink and paper

I hide there no one knows my true identity but yet the lines on the paper forms into ideas, they take shape and

they become alive ….in words I can truly be me…in words the hidden person becomes seen

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