Exclamation Marks Don’t Fly

I’m Quill the parrot, bright and keen,
Observing the strangest sight I’ve seen.
A writer tossed marks through the air,
Like nested doves startled everywhere.

“Amazingly brilliant! Great!” he cried,
As exclamation marks multiplied.
They fluttered round from wall to wall,
Like twenty chickens loose inside a mall.

I squawked. “Dear friend, please understand,
Those marks are not some magic command.
For words to soar and really sing,
They hardly need an extra wing.”

Readers see words from left to right,
Absorbing each next one in sight.
Then at the end the mark declares,
“Read all that back with shouting airs.”

If meaning lands with proper force,
The sentence gallops on its course.
If word meanings limp and fail to run,
An exclamation mark will help no one.

Now single words are different prey.
They sometimes need a mark to say…
A sudden burst of joy or fright,
Or sparks that flash quick and bright.

For “Wow!” leaps high and spins around,
While “Wow.” just drags along the ground.
It sounds like Eeyore’s gloomy plod:
“Oh wow. How nice. Oh bother. Sure. Odd.”

So trim the flock and let words fly.
Trust stronger verbs that reach the sky.
When writing sings, you’ll often find
The loudest shout stays in the mind.