Since I was a boy, I've always been told,
That one who is selfless has a heart made of gold.
But I have discovered from the wise and the old;
Selflessness grows from the heart of the bold.

I offer advice to the ones I console,
Yet something is missing; my heart isn't whole.
Behind my own barrier, there lies a big hole.
Deeper than deep and right through my soul.

Would you like to know why?
Why I sulk and I sigh?
The pain in my heart leaves me wanting to die.
Helpless and lonely, no matter how hard I try.

I wake every day, without a scoff or a moan,
Faking my smiles with a face made of stone.
Within lies a man that is sad and alone.
Like a King without a Queen, a crown, or a throne.

To top it all off, there is this one girl.
One of a kind, like a precious pink pearl.
Whenever she smiles, my head's in a whirl.
Leaving me breathless and wanting to hurl.

I clench my fists when she mentions a date.
Leaving me angry and full of pure hate,
But in an unnoticed and quite subtle state.
If only she thought I was perfect and great.

Some call me stupid, others say cold.
Some even feel I deserve a good scold.
Say what you want, I'll never be sold.
Pain's a small price for the selfless and bold.

Words
are composed of letters
and pronounced with mouths
and tongues of purpose
but in practice

words
cut deep like the sharpest blades
and convey concern like the softest hands
in sequential breaths
from the same sighing lungs.

some words sound like gunshots
and others like birdsongs.

some words feel like sunshine
and others like summer breezes.

these
                                     criss
crossing
                                                  ­       communicative
constructs

drive our wars
and soothe our hearts.
abstract, yet almost tangible
Words.