Words are like
Spilled ink on a page
They mean nothing
But stain everything they touch.
These words
Burn and can heal
Destroy and bring together.
I have known them to
Create an empire
But then send it crashing down
A ghostly reminder
That the pen is mightier than the sword.
These words
Are sharp and cutting
They have to be
In order to catch and claw
The attention that they want.
In the wrong hands
These words
Can obliterate
But can also be useless
And ruin reputation.
These words are
A weapon, a living
A way to live
They are older
And wiser than you
Or me.
Let them sit for a while
Get a good look
For these words
Will come and go
With the springtime.