WORDS

WORDS

Sticks and stones might break my bones
But words will never hurt me.

Words like that
have been said
over me before.
They're meant to bring me comfort;
stop me reaching for the door

But words like that
are said by folk
who really do not see
The power of the spoken words
chanted over me.


They taunt me with their jibes
and flay me with their whips
while I'm treated to a discourse
From their lying lips.

Their words are carefully measured;
weighed and counted, one by one;
the purpose that propels them
like a bullet from a gun.

But you, ever faithful,
always can be found
uttering your very special
words that do not hound.

Your words true and honest;
Niether proud, nor do they strut.
Their purpose, it is clear,
is to keep me looking up.

So should you have the need
to share your thoughts and bare
your soul, please season them
with grace and use a little care.