How to talk of such things
When suitable words make a game of hiding;
verbs and adjectives are not rich enough in describing?
How to speak of such things
When a brittle voice trembles in the mentioning,
Tongue tied trickery trips every uttering,
While throat clench tightly trapping sentences to the point of suffocating?
Who to hear of such things
When guttural grunts are all that come crashing
and gasping breaths are too weak for their releasing
While listeners impatiently tilt heads from my scratchy stuttering?
Who to read of such things,
When the vagueness of text can’t hold true meaning
and impulsive eyes leave print that is boring,
When you can’t fault the font because it is indifferent to what you are attempting?
All the while the essence of a poem is slipping,
opportunity to grasp it is fading
and inspiration waning
The moment wilting
efforts are dying.