Clumsy

I only wish you could make sense

Of this jaded, failing eloquence.

When we are sitting eye to eye,

There is no need to even try.

 

Upon the page, with pen in hand,

These words, so clumsy, mark the sand.

The self-same heart, that aims so well,

Trips on itself and falls to Hell.

 

The breath that speaks a kindly word,

In ink reduces to absurd.

So please imagine lips not page,

And look for tears, and not for rage.

 

I only wish you could make sense

Of this jaded, fading eloquence.

This voice, it whispers a soft prayer,

In hope you’ll hear what’s truly there.

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