Poetry : Sticks And Stones

Poetry : Sticks And Stones


“STICKS AND STONES may break my bones,
But words will never hurt me.”
So they say, but I know is untrue,
Because words can hurt just as much too.

It’s not just the sticks you use to hit,
That makes me recoil with terror;
It’s the words you hurl, when they bit
It hurts me much, much more.

The glare you throw in my direction,
It makes my hair stands on end;
‘cause I see the hatred, it’s your emotion,
I’m afraid to make my stand.

You never had to throw a stone,
Even with the intention of scaring me;
‘cause I have fear though this alone –
The dislike in your eyes, which I see.

You hurt with your hands, you hurt with your feet,
In the pain department, you do your part;
But hurting with words is your greatest feat,
‘cause words harm you more when they’re from the heart.

You see, when love is the only weapon I’ve got,
I used it right : I don’t fight back;
‘cause love won’t let me fire a shot,
I do it all for my heart’s sake.

It’s not in me to fight back,
When I have sympathy for my assailant;
So I’m glad that it’s hatred I lack,
Now I can learn to keep silent.

I won’t use the words you hurl at me
‘cause I know they can hurt you sore;
And it seems to me, as the saying should go –
“Sticks and stones can’t hurt you more!”

And when all is said and done
In this saying, there is truth I see –
“Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But your hateful words I won’t let kill me.”


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