Words

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Words spill out onto the pages
Once mightier than swords
now forgotten by time or indifference
They totter feebly forth
again and again and again
trying to provoke any
response in kind
that they can arouse
In a world of increasing
distraction
quiet words leak from my pen
If I wrote them in red
would you be more likely
to belive
they are my life's blood ?
In the rush to do this and find that
can you have forgotten
the person behind the words ?
I am still here
Altho' my words may go
askitter and askew
and perhaps little read or understood
I am still here
awaiting
words
of
you
ã08-12-1993 Cee Are