Those words are all jumbled up in your head.
With no way of untangling themselves.
They're like Christmas lights wrapped together tight,
Like a big dormant volcano that's dead.

But with a little water and sunshine.
Time and patience to make it sound just right.
Your words will jump from your head to take flight.
To transform to something truly divine.

Write anything in particular or
a haiku about the wind and, or trees.
Or preferably a hive and bees,
but none from a poem book that you tore.

It has to come from you; your mind, your heart.
If not it wouldn't be something you could
call yours, but I think you probably would.
Which means your mind has gone stale and too tart.

Just believe that you can do it, and your
words will prosper to something like beauty,
Like a diamond the color red ruby
And it won't be just words, it will be more.