I am a loud and ardent laughter. Hit in the sides with sunny hues. I might forget everything I say but at least I say. Grinned up and ready, a matter of me is a matter of convalescence. Lung brought and lung given and lung sung--- let me out. I rattle here in pushed down politeness but I am not sorry. What is so solemn that makes you see me unsung even while everything is singing?