Words

I could metaphorically kill you with words,

like a gangsta sent on a drive by,

or a serial killer with a predictable m.o.,

like Bianchi & Buono waiting in the hillsides.

My words will affect you,

like a long lost parent,

appearing after many years,

to tell you he is your father.

I can say I am fine,

but really I am frightened,

because the words that left my mouth,

have impacted your life,

like sitting waiting for a pay cheque,

that never arrived.

Negatively if I am angry,

positively if I am happy.

Take a ticket and stand in line,

if you think I am faking it.

I don't need praise,

but I would never shun it.

I do need love,

if I am to make it,

in this cold world,

where people wear emotional masks,

hiding their true feelings from the public,

like those who hide their faces behind masks,

walking anonymously through the masquerade streets,

There have been victims of my words I regret,

whilst others will remain nameless.

Using my words for good is my main & only aspiration.