Words on
Wind
It's not like I think about this stuff.
Plan it, Cram it, Jam it
I sit down and just compose it
Knows it, Shows it
Leaking out of Windows in the Mind
Twisting into Words so oddly Mine
Never giving any time
To help define
A little rhyme
Within a line
It's not like me to be so bold
Think it, Write it,
Don't even like it
But here it is
And you can See it, Touch it, Feel it
Propped up on the edge of life
Dropped down upon my head like a knife
Always wondering aloud
Betwixt the crowd
But never loud
Just nearly proud
I'd rather be heard and not seen…
It's just the way it's always been..
If words come from the heart…
Perhaps we'll call it art.
October 31, 2000
©Darkstar, 2000, 1999-
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