Our Gift

Man, language can be funny
Sometimes words drawl slowly from mouths like newborn spiders,
Trying their spindly new legs, slow and methodical,
Both terrifying and beautiful:
A black, buggy mass that no one wants to wait around to hear.
And sometimes sentences are lions:
Bursting forth from pink gums,
Not just to jump through hoops, but to astonish the audience-
Wow them in a barrage of muscled yellow fur.
One time my words were a T-Rex:
Blindly flailing about the streets-an anachronism gone rampant,
Devouring small children,
Leaving buildings and sidewalks splintered and broken.
A dusty apocalypse of regret and embarrassment.
Man, language can be funny.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem