Words

Words are just that – words.

No matter how cleverly crafted,

They are froths on a thin crust

Of what lies dormant inward.

I have many things to say,

But for lack of words,

I will keep it that way – dormant,

Until the real thing of its volition come out.

Words are cheap,

They come in heaps,

And invaraibly fondle the sweet lips

Of the honest as they do of the cheat.

Besides, If I were to deploy words,

Inapt as they are to explain the world,

I might get the brunt of a zealous sword,

That has the proclavity to cut a vocal chord.

Copyright Haileselassie Girmay

3/10/2001