Words are strong.
Words are brave.
Words are bold.
                But..
                         Words can have hope that can never be fulfilled.
Words are empty.
Words are lies.
Words are useless.
                         People can use words but their actions determine where they stand.

When a tweet, no longer comes from a bird.
A message, no longer written in words.
A picture, determines your current worth.
A swipe, is not for payments against earns.

Your world, no longer restricted to earth.
Your voice, can control your universe.
Games, without company, a box.
Books, used to be written, forgot.

Love was in letters, not characters.
Eyes looked straight, not down.
Communication, in touch were sound.
Reactions, were not button frowns.

Food shared, not delivered.
Noise surrounded, not muted.
Hands shaken, not email awaken.
The world was claimed, but not hidden.

An automated world,
not an automated me.

There is a story to tell.
I met a person.
There is much to tell.
Choked up emotions.

The person listens.
Reads my stories too.
Not only the intro,
but the whole thing through.

Tells me I am great,
when I know the truth.
This has to be fate.
Because it soothes.

Positive and,
Appreciates.
Hard work, effort.
Invigorates.

The person fills,
me with words.
When I am lost,
and I am slurred.

Hair so curly,
Maybe straight.
Not sure, did
not speculate.

Eyes brown,
maybe blue.
Come to think of it,
it is you.

Word-weavers we are carefully choosing
how to entwine our visions in moment.

We curve the textured linen page
with phases that in-hanse a readers mind.  

We create loops of poetic jargon
that dances to inspire a readers eye.

And when our cloth of vellum is done,
we present our gift to all who gather
in our tapestry of words.

Children like to pick apart beautiful things and leave them bare,
Simply because the destruction that lies at their fingertips is far beyond compare.
They touch the lilac sky with creation in mind
But they don't know that the light withholding their innocence has slowly died.

As children, we are the petals of a flower, lovely when in bloom
But wilted and numb once the bitterness consumes.
We are left to wonder where our innocence has gone
And we roam until our carefree days are done.

O, the vines embrace our still beating hearts,
Like the thorns that have not released us to the cold world.
I crumble beneath the lilac sky
As these fallen petals swirl.

I'm done for the day
What else can I say
I no longer want to play
Emotions starting to sway
My mask flew away

Leave me alone
I just want to go home
There's nowhere to roam
I'm turning off my phone
Gonna Lie down tired bones

I'm done for the day
Thoughts in disarray
They never obey
It's a feeling of dismay
Being life's proverbial prey

©Pauline Russell