2/27/2017
Begin with the words on this paper, we have;
One-by-one from my pen, they come.
The paper, my canvas—the pen, my brush;
The world, my palette—discouraged by none.
I paint what I live—in words, in verse.
When life gets ugly—my words get terse.
When anger takes hold—you may hear me curse.
Some words are at their best while life's at its worst.
But words can be beautiful, blissful, and free;
They can give you hope—make you believe
In more than you are—in what you can be.
Yes, words can be virtuous, honest, and free.