Random Thoughts In My Random Head

Redundant At Words

People believe I'm the magicman of words .

Stringing them together as taut as a guitar's chords .

But no one believes the fact that I fail at them as they do ,

I fail at words when I need them the most .

Yes , I might write poems richly detailed

or weave stories with delightful camaraderies

which contains words unheard of .

Yes , words are a weapon .

To change the evil .

To revive history .

Sharper than a knife , it is the harbinger of great changes .

But I can't seem to get a grasp of them at all .

Words are like the leaves which clump together on my evergreen tree of knowledge .

But as time goes , they flutter away to foreign places .

Some go to strike draught in the holy ground of other's hearts .

Spiteful , hatred ; that's what they inject .

Some try to comfort the dying shrubs .

Negligence is one big sin which leads to another ,

they are not sure of what to say but there is pity

for they might be dead weight , as comfort can only be replaced by more comfort ,

which is not forever .

Others try to spark happiness in the weeds ,

cause your happiness might be someone's hope at a better tomorrow .

Yes , it's all great to do so , but this are what my words do .

I am redundant at them , I am well aware .

I just hope they can change someone else for the greater good , too .