Words unwind directly from my mind,
Bridges, where chasms were before,
But bridges last a second, and words are lost forever,
Some words are not just trapped in caves,
Sometimes the word is buried,
O what a joy to dig it from its grave.
Sometimes dead words make the most sense.
Dead words, lost words, young words, trapped words
They are all beautiful,
They are like keys forever looking for their lock.


Dead words, have had a glorious past,
They were always said,
They were praised,
When they died, the world would not endure,
And they kept in graves for future men to see.


Lost words, were humble,
Not said so much, not many knew then,
A little shy, and a little mysterious,
But powerful beyond measure.


Young words, the future,
All nice and wild,
No mold, no structure,
They are free.


Trapped words, are known,
But they are silenced,
No one can say them,
No one,
They are known.

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