February 5, 2010
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My voice is like a little kid learning to write
They can’t spell, don’t know grammar so the words aren’t right
I trip, I stumble over words I can’t pronounce
I can only watch my quivering mouth announce
That my tongue will just tumble
That my lips only mumble
That I can’t see the differences between C’s and G’s
That my brain cannot understand the matrimonies
Of sounds. Whether spoken or written or heard
I can’t recognize the complexities in a word
I can only try to pretend
That my mouth understands and is trying to mend
The words and sounds it has killed
With noises expressed once my lungs have been filled
With air that is used to communicate
But I can only open my mouth and leave it to fate
I just lift and I twist to try to make a sound
For which a meaning has actually been found
But I stutter, I stumble, I mumble and shake
Like a trembling machine that’s about to break
Frustration courses from under my skin
I just close my mouth, and my st-stutter wins.

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crayola_green said...
Oct. 20, 2012 at 1:21 am
I enjoyed the rhythmic wording of this poem, and it was very enjoyable to read. Keep writing!
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