Untitled Poem

So I'm retyping this jamming out to some Dear Prudence by The Beatles which has become my favorite song to listen to as I walk through Kabe watching the sunset. I wrote this poem during one of our sessions today; the first line just came to me and I jotted it down as I strolled to the negen. It more or less sums up how I feel sometime here in Mali. Take it tongue and cheek, its not like 100% serious...

Free flowing thoughts devoid of structure
buoyant, lying stagnant in my mind
A self imposed muzzle, I struggle to speak
How do I formulate words without language
I am the fly on the wall, the fish in the bowl
I believe in ghosts, because this is who I am
Stumbling, my tongue trips, fails to stand
Speak to me, breathe, give me a voice past silence
A whisper would suffice, but let my soul scream
You stare at me, but you look straight through me
How can you understand what you can not read
Give me a voice like the east wind in the fields
We understand the rain as we hear it shower the trees
give me a voice like the sunrise and sunset
an unforgettable voice that echoes across the world
not just a voice; nay give me a chance to be heard
Let me be the moon; guiding all who look for guidance
Brand me Al-Mustafa the prophet let me speak of life
Give me the cement to hold my thoughts, a mold to form
give me rope to rescue my falling spirit, pull me out
I look to you for a hand, and in return I will give you mine
My hand, my voice, my love, my tears, my inner spirit
Give me the chance and I will help you flourish
Let me be the moon and I sir will make you the sun.