Such a boundary is spoken language,
by Robert L. Bixler III
Seemingly unbreakable and burdensome.
I watch you as you speak,
Such a foreign language to me.
I sit in contemplative struggles,
Lost in idyllic pondering.
Is there not a universal language;
One of pure emotion and heart felt rhythm?
Could our hearts ever communicate
Beyond the spoken syllables of language?
Is there a chance you could understand
Without my audible phrases?
It seems such a slight of Destiny
that such a little thing as a word
Should keep two affirming hearts
From beating in a gran symphony.
A hundred things I wish
I could tell you of my heart
If only I spoke your language.
Una día te los deseará a mis emociones.
(Written when I was 17,3 years ago. It's just one of a couple up here to see my progression over the years)