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vivian-pennockPoems
These silky smooth syrupy words shine for most. For the powerful, they are a weapon. For the weak, it is what kills them. Words are amazing; they can do so much and so little. To find the right ones is near impossible; they always seem to be right out of my grasp. They are so easily misinterpreted, what was meant to shoot someone up, instead, tears them down. I misuse my words often, for I am of reckless nature. I often equip them as my weapon in this constant battle they call life. I am an incredibly accurate ****** my words hit the heart easily. I keep reloading my pernicious gun without checking to see how many I wounded. I walk right past them. Not a care in the world. My friends have started to disappear. Is it I who shot them down? But I was aiming to make most laugh, not tear a few apart. And now, my anger is boiling - why should they find offense to what I said as a meaningless joke? Or maybe I should not joke with these wretched, wicked words that have hurt so many. As I sift through the rubble, searching for remains, I begin to wonder. What it was I said that killed them. Im slowly realizing how much pain my words really cause. Every time I muttered I hate you I shot you down, until you could stand no more.
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Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 12:05 PM UTC
My Words
These silky smooth syrupy words shine for most. For the powerful, they are a weapon. For the weak, it is what kills them. Words are amazing; they can do so much and so little. To find the right ones is near impossible; they always seem to be right out of my grasp. They are so easily misinterpreted, what was meant to shoot someone up, instead, tears them down. I misuse my words often, for I am of reckless nature. I often equip them as my weapon in this constant battle they call life. I am an incredibly accurate ****** my words hit the heart easily. I keep reloading my pernicious gun without checking to see how many I wounded. I walk right past them. Not a care in the world. My friends have started to disappear. Is it I who shot them down? But I was aiming to make most laugh, not tear a few apart. And now, my anger is boiling - why should they find offense to what I said as a meaningless joke? Or maybe I should not joke with these wretched, wicked words that have hurt so many. As I sift through the rubble, searching for remains, I begin to wonder. What it was I said that killed them. Im slowly realizing how much pain my words really cause. Every time I muttered I hate you I shot you down, until you could stand no more.
vivian-pennock
Written by
vivian-pennock
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 12:05 PM UTC
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