All right, so you if you read these, you must keep in mind that I am under no delusion whatsoever that they are good. I am ONLY posting these because I don't know what else to post. The first one is okay, but I really put a lot into the second one. Please do not feel like you have to be like uhhh these are good cough yeah. Hahahahaha but anyways here they are in all their glory:

"The Poet's Tool"

Words.

He bends them, twists them,
bringing them to the lowest of low
and the highest of high
with the slightest inflection of his voice.
He weaves them into a tapestry of
joy and sorrow, love and hate, life and death.
He caresses them, draws them closer,
only to send them soon to the depths of agony.
They do his bidding, and he, in turn,
breathes life into them by speaking them aloud,
releasing them from the prsion of thought
and out into the world, so that they may enter the hearts
of those that truly see them.
They are his own now, he has tamed them and they listen to him,
and spill forth from the ink of his pen.
They are a form of magic, strong enough to change life
for those who embrace them and learn to love them too.

Words.


"Helplessness"

She hears the plea for help,
and reaches out
but
her arms are not long enough
to grasp the hand
held out so
deperately.
She can only touch the
fingertips.

False promises of things
she does not know,
best intentions made so
unsurely.
She can feel the
fingertips,
she touches them
to let the other know
that she is still there.
She knows that is as far as she can reach,
as hard as she strains her arm.

The other does not strain.
She expects no other help,
believing
none
can pull her out of
the place that she is in.

The first keeps her fingers there
anyways,
longing to help in any way she can.
She will leave them there
until someone comes along
with a long enough arm
to help her friend.



Okay, those were worse than I thought...oh well. The second one is obviously figurative, not really meaning just the arm, etc. So there you go and I am going to bed.

Bye!

Blonde :)