Words
Words Words are bullets that I shoot from my fingers... they destroy dictators in my life, they vanquish those Hitlers and Napoleons whose armies of hatred and sarcasm are at the borders of my mind. Words are butterflies that fly from my fingers... they color your world they spread the seeds of love and lightly twist and turn in the morning sun reflected in your eyes. Words are hailstones that dance their destructive dance from my fingers... cooling down the fire that sometimes burns so high... Sign in to see full entry.