"Liberty or death"

I used to have this uncanny ability to express myself, very poignantly and uniquely. It’s been a while since I recognized it wither away. It just moved past me, and I don’t recall watching it go, but it feels as if I did. Like a father watching his only son go to college never again to return. If I were to remember it, I would have watched it slither past me, in a liquid state, off of my brain and lips, through my chest, out of my heart. Made a dumb-mute out of me. Left me with the words in my tongue, and the rhetoric in my thoughts. People now see me in the streets, and whispered to each other; “see him up yonder? He had the wit of a fox and words laced with syrup...Look at him now.”