The words we read:
conjured up figures,
concepts, new ideas  
we want an closure:
a nice happy ending:
another question,
a cliche, a solution
hope to fight
off this condition.
  

That inner voice,
tells us what we
should do.
The critic,
the karma
the inner spirit
gliding through storms:
trudging across murky waters
but can we all
squeeze in that
same boat.

Words are pain
they are there to educate:
devour us with pleasure:
smoother dreams with color.
Nothing is ever black or
white its more grey all over.
  
Words are the
most potent
force that we can muster.
They are always free to change:
and are unpredictable
as the weather.
  
You can never buy words
they are immortal
unbreakable and
are challenging to decipher.
One minute they make you feel
a million times better.
The next they leave you on the sidewalk
with nothing but naked pride.
You can never really measure
the costs at the horror
of words that turn a sane man
insane.