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Far harsher than cold winds that blow
     And scatter leaves around your feet,
They burn the air and wound the heart -
      Those words of cruel deceit.

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They settle in the inward soul
      But do not sleep and will not die;
Then when you least expect them to
       Return to make you sigh.

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Cruel words are meant to injure you,
     To kindle pain and nurture stress,
And, as with seeds, they soon will grow
     And cause you great distress.
 
It’s better that these worthless weeds
     Are cut whilst growing in their prime.
Then fill the crevice in your heart
      With kind words more sublime.

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Copyright on all my poems

 

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