A word makes our story like music.
We are looking for  big story-words
Flung at us in windows of eagerness
Our ears prick for more, our phones
Stopping to ring expectantly, in hush
Of bigger , higher volumes,undertones
Eating each other's ears under hair.

Give us our word,  line of progression.
Our story is made, so he  comes alive.
We want underdog , just a  protagonist
Not proved , hauled on coals of words
Words touch him like a buzz of flies.
We are desperate for  words to take off.