Ineptness / Ineptitude

 

The pen has become the tongue from which I speak.

Ink, the saliva, the driving force behind my words.

 
Paper, the wings upon which they take flight,

uplifting my thoughts, elevating my ideas.

 

Thoughts and ideas that might not have

– ever come out of my mouth – seen the light of day.

 

Grounded !, nothing taking wing, a voice that does not sing,

never expressing a thing, with any kind of proficiency,

 

clarity, depth of understanding, enlightenment of meaning,

as I stand before ?, choke up !, all coming to a screeching halt

 

– my train of thought, my boxcar of words end with the caboose.

All gets lost, before the moment lives, my death !!!

 

The death of all I set out to accomplish, but never doing.

This, my tribunal ???:
 

B. J. “A” 2

February 25^th 2004