I\'m a mere whittler of words on a tree, a tagger of graffiti
I can\'t paint the Sistine Chapel or carve marvelous art
I write fading signs of love, some from above
Though an amateur, they come from the heart from finish to start
Some from care, some from despair
Although my words are rough
I don\'t wish to offend, damage or upend
Knowing I\'ve touched someone, will be enough