Words

Words going around and around, Like in a washing machine, Only there in my head, I pluck one out and put it aside, There's more going around again, Through the dark tunnel the words continue to spread, The poem is almost done, Then I see it .... Yes its done. Reading it out aloud stuttering as i go, I'm pleased with what I've done, Writing words I dont stutter, As my oral words have done, I'm glad I wrote this poem, I can write what I cant say, And be understood in every way, I've been given a voice.