Words

Words, words, words,
yeah that's all I know
pour them out on page
and bleed me dry

Of all the pain
and all the sorrow
the loneliness and longing
that's building up inside

Reaching for something
but coming up empty
of promises and wishes
waking up to reality

If I could sing a song
maybe they would hear me
a sweet melody
instead of ink on a page

If I could paint
maybe they could see
understand the colors of me
rather than a collections of verbs

If I could dance
maybe they would watch in awe
swaying limbs, twists and turns
versus just a jumble of words