• You don't just grab the words out of the air
    And fit the wrong pieces together
    Like a toddler when his mama
    Bought his first jigsaw puzzle.

    You don't just pick up the pencil
    And treat it like it's a stick
    A piece of wood with a
    Rod of graphite in the center.

    Your pen is your sword
    Your paper is the battlefield
    Your truth is the force that
    Drives your army of words to prevail.

    You oppose the endless troops
    Of lies and hypocrites
    That stand in their ranks
    To cause your despair.

    The front lines clash.
    Words versus screams.
    Hurt versus hate.
    Truths versus lies.

    No mercy is shown in this war
    Where emotions run wild
    And in their attempts for victory
    They damage civilian property.

    The truth struggles to rise.
    The lies fight more aggressively.
    Both sides are steadily turning desperate
    Catching others in their trail of feelings and thoughts.

    The words get bigger, more powerful,
    More influenced by the good of truth.
    The lies are being driven out
    And in their final attempt, they unleash their true nature.

    But the battle was won
    Your truth prevails.
    Once you place that period at the end
    Of the final verse.

    Poetry is like your own personal war for truth.
    Doesn't have to rhyme, no need for a recognized style.
    With your pencil as your Gatling, and the paper as the trenches
    If you can get your point across enemy lines, that's all you need.