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Hard Words
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Cries in the night A picture I will paint
a story I will tell
and make it perfectly clear
exactly what I would have it be
lines drawn straight and hard
words that images show
misunderstanding cannot be
exactness is the key
planes with corners square
angles sharp that define
colors I will state
that I would have you see
sky of hummingbird blue
grasses of the emerald green
wind biting frigid cold
sharp sunlight spearing down
cinnamon fills the air
flowers are Jasmine’s and Rose
soft grasses tickle the feet
birds songs clear do sing
hot black ribbon of asphalt shown
mirages dancing in the heat
rumbles of roars far away
wind does ripple curled hair
no room to imagine
no sight for you to see
what images with in you are
there is no room to be
you will see what I would show
imagine not what you would see
my colors of red blue and green
not your favorites be
my scents you will smell
my favorites and everything
there is no room for you
your imagination lies dead
Ebony blackness of cold iron
hard strength of titanium be
winds that rip through tender flesh
sharp knife’s the cut the mind
of your thoughts I do not care
or of what you would see
your imagination I care not of
or of what you would see
somehow this cannot be
this I cannot be
these words I’ll never write
it is not what I would be
soft wonderings half spoke of
hints of sights unseen
leafs carried upon the breeze
to wherever you would be
I’ll let your imagination flow
your images fill your mind
what ever you would see
I’ll try to lead you there
