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.