These Words

What is this thing
that has come to me
Giving me words
And things to see

I don't do poems
I don't do rhyme
I write short stories
In my spare time

But now all these words
And images fill my head
I can't seem to stop them
Feelings of loss and dread

But these words are different
They want to be timed
They aren't just stories
They want to be rhymed

My thoughts are entangled
My emotions swirl within me
Something has to give
Just don't give me your pity

I've never tried my hand
At poems before
And I had no idea
How out they could pour

The words come to me
In bunches and starts
But in time it all comes
It's just some bite me hard

The words seem mine
Or the feelings sure do
I don't know if I write them
But if not by me, then who

All I know for right now
Is that they make me feel better
Or they seem to anyway
As if breaking a fetter

So as long as these words
And images in me
Are making me hear
And making me see

I will put them all down
You can read them if you care
But some of them I won't
Being too personal to share