Short Of Words


I have tried to make them grow;

force feeding them syllables, punctuation,

spelling, and a plethora of capitalizations,

but nothing adds inches to my words.


Shortness is a pre-elected condition

given by nature to those who want

to have stature of vocabularies, crave

oratory powers to sway the masses,

troubling me. I keep coming here,

below the mark.


From down here, I watch words soar,

greet the skies, gather crowds.  Some

rocket into the heavens and vanish. Star- walking

is a life long dream. Oh, to be on such a flight,

taller than skyscrapers, one with the heavenly

entities of height in my small rantings.


Short of money can be remedied, short

sighted can be adjusted with a bit of difficulty,

but short of sound and speech, written meanings,

definitions, and the ever needed diction and

elocution is enough to make one grow faint, 

just not staturesque.






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