A Prelude To Silence

Pretty words
do not make
a life;
pretty words
do not
make a man.
I am good with
pretty words.
What have
they made me?
No wife,
no kids,
no home.
I have bought
a good deal
of nothing
with my
pretty words.
More;
there must be
more.
I want to sing
meaning
into creation.
I want the stars
to dance
to my songs.
I want
nightingales
to envy me.
I want God
to hear
my breath.
I want trees
to smile
at my syllables.
I want...
I want...
But all
that happens
are more
pretty words.
  - mce