I am a child
Who runs in
To babble out the message of insight and glee.
My listeners are words and paper -
Will they pass it onto you
As second-hand news?

"Poor child, who stammers
With flashing eyes and a loud voice,
Only to get tangled up in words and breath,
Child, it may be many years
When you've moved on
That you'll be able to tell your stories clearly."