By now, maybe you're feeling the home stretch, or more the stretchy part than the home part, beginning to wonder if it's all ben said before. It's natural. Now imagine what it would be like if you weren't a poet.
Make a list of you imagine have a hard time expressing themselves, whether it's a language barrier, their own internal or emotional barriers, distance or unfamiliarity with the person they want to communicate with or anything really where the actual act of communicating becomes an issue. Perhaps it's a family member or ancestor who struggled with English as a secondary language, or somebody who was raised to never show their emotions (Yes, Mr. Spock? You need a hand writing a love sonnet, you say?). It could be the family of immigrants downstairs needing a hand talking to a lawyer, or the native native waiter you beg to help you flag down the beautiful girl outside the cafe while you're in Paris.
However it is you structure this incident, there should be an imbalance of power or a sharing of intimate knowledge. It's a trade off of some kind. There should be judgement or negotiation implied. Getting the exact right message conveyed is seldom easy, and this should be even trickier.
Take a look at My Father's Love Letters by Yusef Komunyakaa at the Internet Poetry Archive, then go write.