Every inane, ignorant, stupid, barbaric, primitive conversation you're hearing at the check out line you're counting on your fingers to see if it adds up to 10 and figuring you can always make you're you are when it adds up to 9.

We all carry a concealed weapon
All have since we've been young
Sharp as a knife, used a lot in life
The weapon is the tongue

It has the power to cut you down
Bring you to your knees
Also strong enough to lift you up
Both it does with ease

Yes, it can lift you up
Or it can cut you down
The latter is done far to often
Stabbing at the slightest sound

The problem with this weapon
Is the lack of self control
It comes out slicing and dicing
As if backed against a wall

We even turn it on ourselves
And carve like we're abstract art
Leaving not a mark upon the flesh
But wounding deep the heart

I've talked of using it as a knife
But it also doubles as a gun
Firing from long distances
Beware the weapon in use...The Tongue

He occupied her mind
Like a sit in protest
His eyes flashed like torches
His smile like a banner
The memory of his touch
Like raucous shouts
Igniting her zeal

She tried to subdue it
With busyness
Hoping to police
Her thoughts with new
Self control
But thoughts of him
Overcame it
Even riot shields
Couldn't contain it
Eventually tear gas
Would ***** her eyes

All the while his thoughts of her
Visited his mind
Intermittently
Like a passing tourist
Enjoying the convenience
Of a hotel room
With a free minibar

You send National Register of Historic Places Evaluation of the Freeman Creek Site, 31ON076 back to the contractor without payment because the Methodology chapter had no rhyme or meter (or reason, for that matter).  

r ~ 14Mar14