short comings of words help: Ode to a Word - Help.com

Ode to a Word

Why utter blank insipid words, forlorn
Of heart or just vocation? Lacking root
And bound by verb, why speak to adorn
Some great and placid style of life’s pursuit?
So short doth often fall the words, upon
Their broken means. An outward cry implores
The need to express this yearning, woe, and tears;
Then shed this blackened down like a youthful swan.
Transfer my sadness; end these dreary wars,
But not one word describes my pain or fears.

Yet, beauty rolls within a fleeting sigh,
And comfort lies inside her golden hair.
So many shades of blue define the sky,
But little known is color named despair.
Forgotten language speaks through emotion and art,
The angry paint is splattered across the wall.
Such perfect placement, cast away the pain,
For woe is soothed by vacancy of feeling heart,
But to be so numb beseeches inner brawl.
Dispatch the urgent need for closure for my brain.

Such closure rests within a single word,
Not spoken out of fear of consequence.
Unraveling the minds of ears that heard,
The painful sound brought on by decadence.
Still whips about the page, my desperate pen,
And passes through each page of dictionary,
In hopeful search of one last word again,
To make the life I lead not so contrary.
When love does not seem to quite suffice,
And sadness seems little more than ordinary.

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