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What gives words their power?
Is it that girl in a protected tower?
So high above the ground,
she talks as if the sound has no echo
inside the chest of the hurt,
or the heart of the broken.

She thinks a word is not enough,
to get an old wound to open, or is it?
But what caused the wound?
Was it when that good friend pried?
Or was it when the parent failed?
Was it when love changed?
Or was it when the sky hailed?

In colours she didn’t know existed,
she thought pink was happy,
but her beliefs twisted.
She now writes with an emotional pen,
that pulls her together,
every now and then.
Words are all she knows,
in her kingdom,
they dance and glow.

Her love enters from the windows,
and suddenly her words begin to mean so much more.
Words were the sounds humans made,
that started to matter,
put in the hands of those who scatter.
Hearts like they meant nothing,
like they were nothing,
until you started to listen more,
leave your kingdom to explore-
who loves me and who doesn’t?
who misses me and who won’t?

Life is a battlefield,
and words are the bullets,
fired by the one in that high tower-
the girl who never estimated her own power!

GREG RAKOZY DANIEL MONTEIRO

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