There Isn't a Language

If I could only remember the words A thousand things would fall from my lips, For every word I speak Stumbles and trips As it falls from my mouth And I can’t ever say What I really mean. Perhaps there isn’t a word able to discern All the thoughts tumbling around inside But I know for sure I can’t hide Nor suppress What needs to be said From those I need to say it to. On second thought, there isn’t a language In any corner of the universe That can adequately define These thoughts of mine For they’re too wild (And none at all mild) And cannot be contained Nor restrained Into this thing We call English. 12-11-15