Writing words
because I'm bored
needing to see
black ink
on these sheets
the connection between
head and heart
outlayed
for all to peer and wonder about
their opinions are voiced
as if I have no ears
or wits with which to understand
their words
they criticize
and belittle
yet
they themselves will not dare
to put their soul on display
they will not
tear a hunk of themselves away
and give it to all
who might need a piece
so that they themselves might find
a little
peace
words have a rhythm
all their own
they fall
where they choose
how we feel
determines
how we write
determines
what you feel
now do you see?
connection
black ink
white sheets
