v(o)ice

If only I could make words ring
To incite you to sing out loud
Instead of sounding so grim
Always skimming around the rim
of something more profound
If I could make echoes resound
Throughout boundless time
Without resorting to cheap rhyme

If I could create a cacophony
Of chaotic cries
Making rites of iterations
Instead of groaning
in frustration
Sputtering stuttered
desperation
Every time a thought
Flits through my mind

Morphology or psychology
It all turns into tautology
In this tainted ecology
Conjuring ontologies
To make sense
of this dull voice’s demise

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