Words, like a stranger walking by,
You don't know their story,
You don't know who they are.
And you just see them and remember them.
Many don't believe in the power of words-
Crying as you read the tell-all tale,
Confused as the words wrap along the side of the pages,
Jumping off, like the tears along your broken face.
Cry, beautiful, for my words are for you.
I don't know how I wrote them or what they even are.
All I know is that they're there, here, everywhere.
Read them for me; tell me, do they speak?
What brings love together again?
I hope, I pray, that it's my words-
Words like free, flying birds

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