Words are tools given 

Made for spelling out more than sounds and syllables, 

Not just for rhymes or riddles, 
We were given speech to say the things that looks cannot say alone.
To communicate is our unique ability
A gift: or when we abuse it, a curse- 
Made to build up, able to break,
Here to lift up, there to take. 
Words are built of heart and soul, 
Reflective of what's inside- not two parts but the whole. 
Storytellers: don't be afraid to stand before a crowd,
To speak the words aloud -
Not hide in corners with cremated scripts,
But breathe words, living words, on moving lips.
We need not more silence, 
But resonant sound:
Meaning-filled and purpose-bound,
Not to impress others to think better of story-givers,
But impress on their hearts that they are each story-livers: 
This is the job of poets, writers, actors, you: 
Speech-givers, hope-livers, and the I-feel-so-ordinary, too. 
To understand that everyone is needed.
None unwanted: hearts able to heal though they may feel defeated,
And each story meshed together in one, 
Each life desired, designed, and given freedom when one said "It is done":
That you would tell the story of all the stories, the story, 
Not another tale of searching and worry:
But instead words like stars in the skies,
Spelling out love in place of emptiness and lies-
This is the job of storytellers: to restore, recover, reclaim-
To help, build up, and heal the lame. 
Words are tools given not to keep but to give,
Words not to harm, but words to help live.

Dedication: To my mom, who taught me how to read and who first exposed me to poetry, and to my friends and teachers that have been helping me learn to speak in Japanese.

Photo credit: Taken by a friend of the first place I performed this poem (my college's Diversity fair).