They tell you, write it with emotion.
Write it like it’s a history you’ve seen -
Describe it in burning colors,
Making a tragedy of things unseen.

But then they criticize you, tell you
It’s too graphic - that there’s no way
That was your personal war.
They’d rather look away,
Than acknowledge that it was your everyday.

yes, words
have power

but only
as much
power

as you
give unto
them

This life I was given
Has caused me nothing
But sorrow and grief
And that’s why I can’t
Possibly wrap my mind
Around the fact
That life is a beautiful thing
When nothing beautiful
Ever happens to me