My Words

Parroting me in monlogue, my words had left deep lasting imapct, they had sunk in like a titanic, and were strewing wits in panic, he was quite dishevelled, body spoke for mind, and both appeared in several binds, I had spoken to set him free, and not to let him climb unknown trees, and be a prisoner, like a harried pensioner, he was mulling, and churning my words, and needed time, to accept or reject, I was all for the wait, for it was futile, to throw any weight, he came to me later, and the words he began to file, made me aware, that he was with me, as reflected by his several smiles.