There would be no books,
no literary yarns to spin.
No tool to express love,
or spit out hate and loathing.
A mouth's function will be limited,
to being an inlet for consumption,
and an outlet for rejection, and
passion's only outlet, endless French kissing.
We writers would beg on streets,
with defunct shrunken right brains,
Unless we are the first ever,
to master wordless communication!
There would be no scripts to master,
no sounds to wrap your tongue around,
No songs, just sounds to belt out aloud,
and movies would never be talkies.
At times it's better to keep your mouth shut,
but then there are just too many other times,
when words make the world go around,
and words are all we have, sometimes.
This is poem 27 for Robert Lee Brewer's April PAD Challenge 2011. Prompt: "A world without something else poem".