Words. They are my forte,
With them I can make works of art.
And what's best, I don't have to look a certain part.
With words, I can form an empire,
I could topple nations, even form a wildfire.

I was never good with speaking,
Always tripped up, got tongue-tied,
Words are like acid, making the world tie-dye.
And I'm the addict, just sitting there tweaking.

And I know, it probably doesn't sound good.
But if it's all the same to you,
Who decides what's good?
Me? Everyone else? No, it's whoever likes it. It may not be you.
So let me ask, what's your forte?