I’m not sure what to write, I just know that I must. Somebody once said there was a poverty of language. How true that is. The infuriating truth about emotions, feelings, is the impossibility of capturing them within a page. They remain forever outside of our grasp. Sure, poets and scholars with hands and minds far more knowledgeable than myself have tried in vain over the years to meet such a need for so many. It strikes me that the thing that arguablymakes us uniquely human, language, the very tool we evolved over millions of years is still so hopeless to describe thefacets of our very existence. A scientific mind can describe beautifully the smallest parts of us, the central nervous system, the bones of our ears, the nerves of our eyes, all of it drawn and described in minute detail. All lines and pencils; and yet the most basic…