![](https://res.cloudinary.com/jerrick/image/upload/d_642250b563292b35f27461a7.png,f_jpg,fl_progressive,q_auto,w_1024/o9xz7yoqnqwxszzylmzk.jpg)
I am no good at speaking
So forgive me, that I write
My lips fail me too often
On what I would like to bring to light
When I write it is with fervor
I write with unspoken passion
And that is why it is surely you
Who ignites my words once ashen
Though most days I live in grey
Filled with despair, I cannot cope
I find that when I put my pen to paper
It is your image that gives me hope
I have not written in a while
For magic had left my poet tongue
But I have been restored, renewed
For it is you that makes me young!
I was once so full of words
That filled every paper I owned
But life had been so dismal
That I stopped, I never wrote
And when I don’t write
I lose myself, piece by piece
I write this poem, grateful
Because of you I shall not cease
We are all to die alone
On this broken, shattered earth
But with you I don’t feel so hopeless
I find joy and love and mirth
Whatever may come
No matter my twisted fate
So long as I am in your arms
I will face it head on, straight
I will write these words
Strong, eager, alive, and true
Zealous my words are on the paper
For as long as I am with you
About the Creator
Collin Olson
I've always been a firm believer in the power of language.
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