Words

People’s words.

How they wound.

They pass our lips so easily

And hurt so many.

We say things without thinking

That hurt others so deeply.

Those wounds follow people around

And keep us from being

All that the Lord meant us to be.

When will we realize

That words are as sharp as a sword

And cut to the deepest parts of our soul?

How can we be so unkind?

Unthinkingly saying things that harm

And stand by watching as the pain sinks in.

Pretending we know nothing about its origin.

The very people we wound

Are the ones we should stand by.

We make promises

But then find reasons

Not to keep them.

What will we do

When someday those words

Come home to roost

And we are the one writhing in pain?

Who will we turn to then

If all our friends we have alienated?

Do we really have to fall so far

And find ourselves in deep despair

Before we realize

That we are the ones we hurt

By the words we spread?

By: Ann Martin

October 3, 2000

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