From some poems flow like rivers, engulfing the page in words to move nations. From some poems are never seen, never heard. Some try poems, and write short stilted words, overladen with cliches and falsely deep words. Some live in worlds spun entirely of their own delusion. They are certain that their words mean something. Certain that their poems are God's gifts to humanity. And then there’s me. My words don’t flow across pages, they don’t dance around minds. Perhaps they are in fact stilted. I wouldn’t know. How can one judge themselves? Still the words are here. They are better than those other words. The words that were thought but never written. Written, but never spoken. Spoken, but said jokingly. Words have power. Words start wars. Words begin peace.Do not stop the words. If they are allowed they will flow. Words are rivers, and these rivers have no need of dams.