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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14. Confess

Hear me now,

I roar till my throat runs dry.

Hear me now,

I weepily ask you why.

 

Listen to me,

I can whisper of my ache.

Listen to me,

I give while you take.

 

See me now,

I force your eyes upon me.

See me now,

I will plead to be set free.

 

Talk to me,

I will hear what you possess.

Talk to me,

I beg for you to confess.

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