For some its rap with its cadence
Others prefer a slow waltz in a flowing sense
But words in joy regardless of the delivery
Are meant to tease and stimulate the hearer.
While spoken in anger words cannot be recovered
For once cast out they are discovered
To be the end, not the beginning
Of expression that is now destroying.
And yet words are the music of creation
When proper choice are man's salvation
Showing the inner spirit and the soul
Of those both young and old.
Merry Christmas!
(Think about it.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem