A thankless poet. (P)

It can come without warning,
That mighty urge to write,
Sometimes early in the morning,
Sometimes very late at night.

I look through my bag,
I find a pen and paper,
Scribble down some phrases,
to rearrange later.

I put my soul in stanzas,
I put my heart in the beat,
I put my breath in the words,
(It's not an easy feat).

I make poems to make you smile,
Or maybe to make you see,
Whatever ramble you can handle,
About whatever occurs to me.

Nonetheless i dont want money,
(But some charity would be kind),
I don't do it for recognition,
(But i'd like being easy to find).

I dont need an ego-boost,
Or to be thanked outright,
The greatest compliment i know of,
Is for you to read more of what i write.

Words (P)

Words can bring constants
Words can bring change
Words can bring love
Words can bring hate
Words can Bring peace
Words can bring war
Words can be BIG
Words can be small
Words make the world work

There is power in words
And a limit to how many we say
so choose wisely
Mean every one
And never speak lightly.