Because sometimes words forget what they mean,
And fail to live up to their promise.
Because sometimes they dance not to the tune of the mind,
But with the melody of the heart.

Because sometimes they betray the face where they came from,
And reveal the image the mind cannot fathom.
Because sometimes they sing the songs of the living,
By writing the odes and eulogies to the dead.

Because sometimes they paint the light of the world not with the pleasantries,
But with the darkness that lurks in the depths of the soul,
And all that it is not,
And all that it cannot.

Because sometimes they confuse more than explain,
And set in loops all these unmaskable pains,
Because sometimes they leave larger wounds than they started with,
Gaping and growing beyond what they can patch up.

Because sometimes they leave just when we need them,
Only to return when we can’t find the use to them.
Because sometimes they hide more than they show,
And stop the world whenever they flow.


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