Sticks and stones can break my bones
But words can hurt me more.
They're like a vast black ocean of ink
Casting them on the shore.
Pressed between pages forever, doomed to gather dust.
That's not the way great words should live, they should live on in us.
Poems, stories, pleasure things
But to all, a deeper meaning.
The good words, the poems, they come from the heart
Gorgeous words are truely an art.
By Black Nymph
Help make sure gorgeous words aren't a LOST art.
Critisism will be accepted, I've always been able to take it before. Please, though, comment. I want to know if it's good or not.