“Flow of Words”

My words they do flow,

From my mind or the lack thereof,

To my fingers, onto my computer,

Then onto the page that you do read herein,

They flow with passion; they flow with heartache,

They flow with Peace; they flow with pain,

But mostly they just flow like that of a heavy rain…

Down the sewer of life, to the bowels of the earth, using all vowels,

Drifting past and through the rats in the cellars of mankind’s mind,

Flow they do without hesitation, flow they will without trepidation,

Bringing with them, all sorts of human emotion,

To be named therein by human inspiration…

As writers, if that is what I am, we come, eventually, to the realization,

That what we write makes little sense, and gains little attention,

But that does not matter, we are here to release our inner most thought,

Be they dark, or light, or humorous, or a future we have sought…

Can I go on, can I press the issue past its extremes of the subliminal?

Will I herein become anything that I wish, or will I fade into black,

Becoming that which I can never, in all of time, go back,

Peaceful we are, peaceful I be, but can the world who reads me,

Just understand and be less preoccupied with the reason they see? 

Or do I have to stand on a soapbox in the middle of a square?

Spilling out my blood, my pain, or otherwise do refrain,

Speaking quite near, but not to close to my home, yes my lair…

                             © ed – 6/24/04