A syllable, A mark, and A word

I’ll dot every i and cross every t.

The exclamations after each sigh,

oh! that’d be me.

I’ll exist even if full stopped.

‘there shall be battles’,

the sentences gnashed their clauses, and they yawped.

When if a semi-colon or an em-dash

I’ll add no frills and still make sense

like a soul patch sans any mustache.

While you maybe THE punctuated passage unseen.

I’m merely a single syllable, a mark, and a word

unaware of any grammatical hygiene.