All I Have Is My Words

They say; a word is just a word, but I think writers know better. To a writer letters and words are a gift given to us, so that we can make sense of the senseless. With them we are able to create great stories; stories of love, hate, desire, fear, life and of so much more. If a word is just a word, how come they are so important to us? How come they do hurt us? How come they do sooth us? How come they do make somewhat of a difference? With the following collection of poems I hope that you too, dear reader will question the saying; a word is just a word, for it is not just a word is it?

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10. Black Words - do not hate; there is enough hurt in this world already

Black words,

Like venom from your lips.

Bloody swords,

Like poison in your fingertips.

 

Black kisses,

Dripping with your distain.

Bloody fingertips,

Murdering souls in vain.

 

Black distain,

Like knives in the night.

Bloody vanity,

Like the devil’s only sight.

 

Black night,

Clouding your sickened mind.

Bloody sight,

Forgiving hate is such a bind.

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