Words
A picture's worth a thousand,
But from them we were formed,
With hundreds one may feel their worth
But by few, Christ was scorned.
Two bring two to union
Three make one's heart fly,
Remembered most by many
Are those said 'fore you die
Some say, "they cannot hurt me,
Though sticks will break my bones"
But when the whispers circulate
The sound of pity drones
Used to seal a promise
Or bring a page to life
Mend a soul that's breaking
Or shred it like a knife.
Hola, ciao, guten tag,
Beauty when you sing
What's really so astounding
Is they all mean the same thing
Comments
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Hmm. Interesting. It's my personal belief that the biggest and most harmful lie that we are told when we are children is that "sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me." Words, in many cases, can hurt more and do more harm than simple physical violence. Getting hit with a rock may hurt physically, but a hurtful word from a friend or loved one hits the soul. It seems to me like you're getting at that a little bit in this poem. People always seem to downplay the importance of words, but they shape much of the world around us. Without language, we almost wouldn't be human. Another poem I appreciated!