power of words

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with eagerness I lift up each page heart beats fast tenderly I hold each line as I read each word and read again and again this time searching for something that has to do with me
So I’m Now An EXPONENT of Rhymes That Are POTENT... !!! No Numbers or Quotient Can Limit Their Motion... !!! INFINITE Like The Ocean Or Big Swarms of Locust... !!!!
So What Is It like When You Choose To write ... ? How Does It Feel When You Can't Control What Is REVEALED ... When Producing Scrolls Born From Your Soul ... !?! The Soul of ... " Your BEING " ... !!!
My Poetry Flows In ... " So MANY Ways " ... !!! Which Goes To Show That My Wordplay's GREAT ... !!!!! "Your arrogance, will seal your fate !"
To the life of the naked eye, both your skins are the same but to me, neither strain is the same. One call with an arrogant whisper the other with a sweet knock. The whisper quiet and simple had me working to my knuckles.
They say to understand someone you have to walk a mile in their shoes   Well I’m sure that’s been proven undeniably true   But it all sounds rather exhausting
   words are powerful  this a fact that should never be doubted they can hurt or they can help they can make you cry or they can make you smile they can make you angry or they can make you laugh 
The shelves nudge my hips as I pass. They are jam-packed with too many books to count, But I do.  I count them all. Their pages are rough and worn. They hold memories of eras I long to visit.
It is one moment that changes a life.  I don't care about landmarks;  This isn't what I speak of.  In my head, there are echoes of kindness,  Whispered softly but still heard. 
the constanants tingle, the vowels vibrate into placenot quite creating the words but leaving in my brain a faint traceI can feel them in my body, they move from my head into my heart
Boxy letters? Flowing calligraphy? Cramped in style? Choose your weapon  The battle begins Each warrior calling upon their language To wound, to beat, to kill Choose your weapon  Ruby lips and light violet tongue? Wooden stick full of graphite? Cl
*in response to my n'th reading of The Book Thief by Mark Zusak*   It's 11am and 257 pages The words have rinsed over my beaten and bruised soul as the rain.  
Noise, sound, together, one Why not motions I see but sounds I here Today in this time I feel  I feel, twisted and scorned Why did he let go, to those words I know
Words are an amazing invention, Creating happiness or tension. Words can be quite powerful too. There are many things words can do.
Eat my words you beast of paper, clawing for truth and lies Soak up my tears and my smiles, my heartache and my giggles A half-formed poem a finespun respite for
All I could do was walk, And look, and touch, and feel. Never did a word compare, The world before my hands.
Of all the power man has used Of all the wonders, once abused The pen, the pen! The pen I choose The ink, a sword as soft as dew
Words can build. A compliment may make a person happy The truth can reveal the beautiful world And a noble lie can protect you from harm. Words can also destroy. A critique can diminish a person
Words on a page are poetical, ten-thousand voices are musical. Both combined are so beautiful; God's wonderful gift called song. Leave me not a message, but a poem, if you can.
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