Words may be haunting
Sometimes they’re taunting
Resembling a knife, cut in deep
Don’t fade away; into the mind and heart they seep
Some carry the burden of hurt and tears
Some fulfilling the worst of fears
Public or private; all the same
Having the power to drive insane
Order; contemplation; precision
To speak or not to speak; important decision
A mile a minute, wishing to speak what runs through the mind
Trying out “one step at a time”
The right ones; hard to find and choose
The mystery: what will happen once they’re set loose
A blank canvas awaits its paint
Words leaving graceful strokes; painting with no restraint
Paint over caution, let the brush fly
No fear of running out; for there’s an endless supply