The Written Word

So little by little slowly inching along

Crawling across a page, a mind, a heart

Transparent to the core; everything they imply

Knowledge and wisdom to us they impart.

Swiftly woven by expert hands the words are twisted

Drawing a map for those less fortunate

Molding them to things none knew existed

Soon we all are becoming the unfortunate

Covering your eyes to make them go

You don't want to hear their whispers anymore

Because you know that this is all quid pro quo

As it always has been since days of yore

Like fingerprints on a breakable vase

They leave behind themselves a faint trace.