Missing Words (Manque Des Mots) Poem by Peter Strugnell

I have no words for you there is a problem,
where are they when you need them,
trapped in a corner of my mind,
some words we shall never find,
the speech therapist is helping me look,
the cerebral aneurysm stole and it took.

The words exist and have always existed,
but will they come out, will they be liberated,
frustration you don't know the half of it,
I feel stupid I feel like a real 'idgit',
some words will never find their way out,
and it doesn't help to scream and to shout.

When all was functioning as it should,
I'd draw up a list of vital words, and I could!
but now there's simply gaps in my list,
and the word won't come, even if I insist,
what comes in its place is anger and frustration,
like all the passengers are waiting, with no train in the station.

Words when they come easy we take them as said,
we don't question what the brain does, it's taken as read,
I don't understand when it decides not to function,
when both brain and speech don't work in conjunction,
It's frightening and I don't like what has happened,
I can't accept the injury, no not for a second!

The brain is a delicate instrument no one can deny,
upset it's delicate balance and you'll soon see why,
I can appear a bit scary if you don't understand,
when I became ill, it for sure wasn't planned,
so please be tolerant if I'm feeling a bit low,
it's probably due to a 'manque des mots'.