LIT (Lost in Translation)

I’ve lived my entire life with wordsw.

Spoken, they can be twisted, skewed, slanted in such a way

That those on the other end can easily be swayed,

Sold on whatever promise the utterer puts forth,

Be it on a silver platter of a bed of lies.

The written word, free of the inflection

Of the human tongue, finds itself often

Misconstrued, lost in the translation from

Pen to page to peering eye.

Thus there exists a fundamental problem

In the exchange of language, with no guarantee

Of the intended message being that which is received.

We exist within this continuous tide of syntax,

An endless ebb and flow, birth and death of diction,

Attempting to stay afloat and absorb meaning,

Else we sink below the waves of words and

Drown under this depth of discourse.

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