Pity me, the fool the who cannot speak
The words that well inside him - standing dumb
And capable only of keeping mum
Despite the harms such great silence may wreak.
O, pity me that, vacillating, weak,
Cannot express the omnipresent hum
That rises where my heartstrings seem to strum,
Nor find the solace that in speech I'd seek.
Yet though no words arise to show my love,
And every effort that I make may fail,
Though I am stuck in this extremity,
The model picture and exemplar of
Incapability, and though I quail
Before expression - do not pity me.
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