Friday, 13 March 2015

Words That Stay

He is a wreck when the words won't come
He'll walk around like life's being unfair
Like the world is on his shoulder,  and maybe it really is,
He just can't express it, the words won't come
Thoughts rule his mind, running in circles around his brain
Most around his heart,  but they won't turn into words
Stubborn that they are,  they won't convert,
Won't reach his fingertips,
Fingers that rest unmoving atop alphabets.
And if he forces them out,  they laugh at him
Ridicule his stupid choice of vocabulary.
They make fun of him and wound his writer ego
Demanding to be re-written,  or altogether go.
Then one day she waltzed in.
His fingers have been busy eversince.
He writes like there's no tomorrow.
When she's with him words come easy
Words come right when shes on his mind
Words too many running around in his head, 
Filling his veins and messing with his brain
eventually reaching white paper so plain.
He teaches his words about her,
Tells them everything they need to know
He emphasizes on the traits of her
He wants the world to know
He tells his words her secrets,
and makes them vow never to tell
He then uses those words disguised entirely as something else
Her secrets lay laced beneath all those literary devices and rhymes
Meant only for her,  the words grin mischievously
They'll be hers for all of time.

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