I found your words where you left them
Floating disconnected near the path you walked
Where you tossed them carelessly
Once you were done,
Once you had wielded their edge
I think somewhere you might want them back
They expose a part of you that should stay hidden.
Words released are words unbound
And owned by those who find them
For better. For worse. Forever.

January 13, 2006 В· Harry В· Comments Closed
Posted in: Poetry