Language is luscious,

Honey to the soul.

Always together,

Never at war.


It makes man drunk.

It whispers a thousand secrets.

It is a spring symphony

And a summer dream.


Language is enormous happiness

And incredible sorrow.

It is a show of love

And a hidden sadness.


Language is inspiration,

A literary piece of art.

It is a heaven in a hell

And a friend in a friendless place.


It is an awakening

And a revelation.

It is creativity

And it is vision.


Language is our communication.

Without it we could never say

The words we keep at bay:


I Love You,

and will do so everyday.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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