All round me are words, and words, and words, They grow on me like leaves, they never seem to stop their slow growing From within... But I tell myself, words are a nuisance, beware of them, they can be so many things, a Chasm where running feet must pause, to look, a sea with paralyzing waves, a blast of burning air or, A knife most willing to cut your best Friend's throat... words are a nuisance, but They grow on me like leaves on a tree, They never seem to stop their coming, from a silence, somewhere deep within...