Eyes that mirror broken trust,
Nothing to move through your heart of rust,
Speak not with a tone, other that to atone,
Say not, a word to break a spirit or a bone,
Say not. “Sorry” won’t do it alone.

Raise not your fist, foot or voice,
STOP you have a choice, whether it is a
child or a loved one or even a dog in the street,
they all see you and your violence, together complete.

Is that who you are? Is that how you will be known?
Not by the seeds sown,
but by the darkest of your insides shown?

If you were on the receiving end would it break you or would you bend?
If you have been there in the painful black corner of a memory past,
why not make your experience the last??!

Then, Nothing will fill your hand but warmth, compassionate tears will be
the drops of oil to lubricate and prime the pump, your heart!
Blood will flow through you once again, that icy season, your winter, will be over.

Then, changed you will be ready to give and in time receive…