All I Can Do

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I wrote these words
only for you,
so do with them,
as you wish.

Take them for the literal
or the figurative
it doesn’t matter to me
as long as you promise
to read them
and know
they were written
only for you.

Crumple them up,
throw them out,
and burn them in flames
when you’re finished.
As long as they were read
and not wasted;
I know
I’ve done
all that I can do

Down Stream

170H

When they tremble
I tremble too. I wish I could help
give them a new meaning,

all twenty six letters line up, perfectly.
Who am I to rearrange them?

As they stand now forever they remain
cemented, together. A tight-knit family,
no comma, could break.

In my mind they are a block of ice
causing no harm floating down stream.

Why should I step on them and slip?

The pick-up and go is a feature I endeavor, but
I can only watch as letters come together
form words, curve into cursive flip around, turn
and maintain the same meaning.

It’s nothing to them, but
I’m too narrow-minded;
I wouldn’t dare
to attempt such change.

For now, I will look admire from a far
as they melt into water, drift into the current
and out toward the sea