The Extractor

The Extractor
You pull tears from reluctant souls
With your domineering rhymes
Your sadness, your jubilation
Your proud banners, your desperate cries
You pull movement from the motionless
With voices exceeding all silent constraints
You reach inside with your vibrant fingers
And pull out hidden tears with your might
Your words are missiles aimed at the heart
And words soft as white virgin snows
Words that pierce impenetrable armour
Words that stand together as proud voices
You are the still one as
Poetry came searching for you
And your eager sentiments
It gave you words to say
It chose your future for you

Préféré par...
Autres oeuvres par Robert L. Martin ...