I maybe just words but I need to be heard,
Spread my message far and wide and clearly Speak me for I have nothing to hide,
I am Passion filled with love but tainted with sins including my pride,
Often hate lashes out, Sceams I ramble and spoken as I shout,
Confused, arroused, misunderstood and abused, I am but words and in the dictionary I drowned,
Only when I am put together, crafted, sculpted and molded can I have meaning and worth,
Often in Dear John letters my purpose is mere Good Byes but instead I cause Hurt,
I've started wars, I've ended lives, but still my messages are sent,
For the Artist, my Creator, is the only one with true intents,
He or she directs and aims focussing on your feelings and theirs,
For the writer is my Soldier who destroys or protects with love, hate and care.
Originally Posted On Site: 2010-01-13 00:42:44
Last Login: 11.27.11
Visits as of 12-12-07: 239
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