Small Words

Some things may be spoken
Others rhymed
Half breath statements barely alive

Some things can be said
Others must be emphasized
Bold words largely revised

A breath of air in the dark
Large falsehoods painted in red
Embolden by their vulgar stark

What, a plea outside for the inward dead?
Acting so free with that life,
Casting about with those looks so trite
Affection never rang so true
Except by words you said

This pride could be said
Vernacular demised
But some things are better left unsaid
At least until they are screamed