To get the thoughts out of my head
They always sound better when read
Because when I speak them aloud
They tumble onto the ground
Becoming nothing more
Than a jumbled mess on the floor
Incomprehensible sounds strung together
Like the rustling of leaves in November
Once on the paper or screen
I can rearrange and fix what they mean
Until you can see their understanding
More than that, know all of their feeling
-Marcia Ann