Comfort

There's just some comfort of having a pen nestled in my hand, A notebook at the palm of my wrist, and thoughts eager to find rest on Paper lines. There's just some comfort In knowing the never ending possibilities of words and the stories they hold. How many heart breaks have they heard? And how many tales Have been left untold? There's just some comfort In the concept of secrecy For words are locks only hearts hold the key to. For words such as these Belong in chambers far beyond reach. There's just some comfort In knowing that I have power in my words And that I hold words In my power.