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Only Words

These may just seem,
Like words on a page.
Ink firmly pressed down,
Yet flowing like my life.

This may just seem,
Like an ordinary poem.
With not much to say,
Yet it begins and ends with words.

Words cut deep,
Like a knife through melting butter.
Words spread far too thin,
Like not quite enough lemon icing on a cake.

My words are carefully crafted and contained
Like a potter creating a fine porcelain vase.
Yet in a moment, they can shatter, into a thousand letters,
On the cold hard stone floor of your indifference.

My words, describe my life.
My journey, on the road of faith.
Tread carefully on my words,
For you are also walking on my dreams.

Your words,
Describe your response.
Your reflection, brings life,
To my dreams.

Some say my words are profound,
But still they hide in this poem.
Because you did not read them,
Like you said you would.

I hope this poem escapes,
 Gets set free and travels.
For it contains words, that we can all speak.
And commas, where we can take breath.

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