I could write

I could write
what you want to hear
I could paint with words
to draw out that tear
from the corner of your eye

I could write
everything you’d ever want to read
I could be the bandage
to the wound that would otherwise bleed

I could write
a thousand tales of delight
I could be the voice
of the oppressed in the night

I could write
the dreams of the people
I could show you
the fallen church steeple

I could write
the most religious song
I could sing about right
when all I am is wrong

I could write
about how I could write
or write nothing at all.

With no pen in hand
no sword in sheath
no shield to hold
the time must surely be
right to write no more

But speak and act
with conviction
burnt into the heart
like a blade heated in the furnace
sworn to make its mark forever
on the soul.

I could write
or I could make right.

© MH


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