Would that words were more like soap wherewith a cleansing could occur.
A wanton wish and humble hope, see this as that. Or, as it were,
that all these words might disculpate, launder, and wash away your fears
to promote a more mindful state, revealing steps; the subtle tiers
of metaphors, and similes that provide for extenuations
of reasons to feel more at ease; stet your threats; allay frustrations.
Would that words could clean so bright without so much as giving pause;
could share emotions of delight, revealing how, and showing cause
for words when they are heard and read, as those like these thusly relate,
to be thought pristine instead of written on a once clean slate.
Would that words, like wish and hope, considered here as fortunes follow,
washed within, were words like soap, then this would not be hard to swallow,
and soapy words would not raise the ire of any who might listen in,
yet leave you, listener, inspired by what is heard above my din.