If I poured all I thought onto blank pages,
And emotion soaked through onto your oak table,
Would it make a difference?
Would you read the words my pen spewed,
And grasp the meaning I left for you,
Would it change your ways?
If the swords fell useless and the pen was choice,
And through tangled words you heard my voice,
Would you listen?
Would you dissect my heart without any science,
And in every corner discover your presence,
Would you drop the scalpel and back away?
If I told you today what you wanted to hear,
And confused it with what I wanted to say,
Would you feign ignorance?
When my weighted words float to the surface,
Will you piece them together with purpose,
Would it make you different?
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