Your words are dead
They were dead before you voiced them
Dead before you penned them
Your thoughts are worthless
They were worthless before you thought them
As soon as you spoke them they were forgotten
Your emotions are hollow
In the darkness of your soul you wallow
I know that's hard to swallow
In life it's easier to get in line
Easier to follow
So why bother taking the trouble or time
But you can't stay away
Rescue hasn't come your way
And you've got something you must say
Your words are alive
They're made of more than jive
You're not afraid to wander from the hive
You're thoughts count somehow
You don't genuflect and bow
They can make a purse from the ear of a sow
Your emotions are rich
and they flow as fast as a twitch
You'd rather fight than give in or switch
You were born free
As least that's the way it's supposed to be
and when is wrong you have eyes to see
So if you're wrong or you're right
You try to keep a goal in sight
To express...more than impress
You follow your heart
because you know nowhere else to start
Expression, when it is honest, turns into art.
You leave on the poems and the pages
A little of you that may or may not survive the ages
You do so for self expression and not for the accolades or wages
Your words you hope will help or inspire
or light a fire
as you keep searching and learning about life, from wire to wire
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem