When words first granted to my lips
And a soul, to me, bequithed as such
A silent scream change to a whisper
A great big cry, not all I could muster
Woe! to those still dumb and silent
A crazed heart, and self confinement
Gathers all the idle knowlege
Grinds into a raging tempest
To commune with each other not in question
Still my heart begs i should mention
All the wants and need the same
Both we respond to our own name
The difference not in deposition
But from the thoughts to the translation
Words expressed, no rhyme or meter
Helplessly they fall on deaf ears
Not to sound or intonation
But to meaning and explanation
Conversation still creating
A toddler only an adult in making