The Elder’s Eloquence

The elder stands to speak.
My heart stops and melts.
The simplicity of his eloquence
Stirs unseemly envy in my soul.
The phrases roll from his tongue
Without stutter or stammer.
How I wish I could do that!

Instead I sit alone
Late into the night
Pouring my soul onto a page
In black and blue blood–
Half wishing no one sees my insecurity,
Half knowing I’ll share it
To give voice to those
Who neither speak nor write.

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