What if my vocabulary was limited and what if I had no words?

Will my expressions fail me? Or then would I build expressions out of the little I have, but then would that make any sense at all, or enough for me perhaps?

What would I do if had no words to use? I reckon my entire being would be under arrest, for, feelings and emotions, thought and logic, need a medium. Would actions suffice the need then? Why the sweat over apt words and prim sentences with crisp ends?

Will the absence of words render my voice and mind paralyzed? Or will it make life blissful for its living in ignorance, a sense of no loss, in fact there is no clue to the meaning of loss- a fools garden with only lemon tress.

To think of it, what will I be if the substance that made me is sucked out, like words vanishing from my system, would leave me hollow and useless. The lexicon that I mentally hold and nurture is what gives my imagination its shape. How will I weave the tale if the beads are lost or misplaced?

My words, I think make me, for they bring to life what I randomly muse all through the day and night. If I had little or nothing of it, a tree or the sunshine, the tear and the smile, would mean nothing but a random jumble thrown out on whites.

Often I dispose them liberally, seldom understanding that like water they should be used judiciously.

At the end of it all, if I call anything mine, it’s the words that stay with me and grow with time.

With words non-existent, silence will prevail; Oh a little vocabulary is an option better to take.

But to call a spade a spade is too restrictive, a trifle boring maybe, synonyms are the best deal; well allegory and analogues would be a great deal too.

Can I have a large bowl full of words please? I’m voraciously hungry.