Mathew Lewis - Childlike

Words spill from me,
Not tip-toe but rolly-polly
Onto the floor.
But they’re two-year-olds not teens
And they don’t make any sense.
They simply fall over themselves,
Especially when around you.
They’d like to make sense.
They stutter and gurgle
And point distractedly,
A mime effect,
A struggle for clarity.
With big blue eyes
They look out onto the world
Confused and irritated
Because no one can understand.
Instead a cheek is taken
In forefinger and thumb,
Squeezed tightly
And then forgotten.
And my words are left
To totter off
To find others of their kind,
Who might just understand.

Mathew Lewis

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/childlike/