Words are words are words
Words, the forum of human dialogue. When will we learn to read minds and do away with offensive behavior.
When will we all learn that words are just strings of letters with emotion attached to them. Just words, but they sting so much, even with no emotion attached to them, even with on the page. Words are just words, but they are more precise, more deadly than any phsycial weapon we can make.
All I have is words, I am in the word profession, a word assassin. And sometimes I slay without wanting or trying. And then there is nothing left but my feelings.
Words are hated and flung like knives, or loved and hung like ornaments, but the same words can heal or hurt. How do we know without more words, a duel of words or a dialogue. When will we master words so they never hurt us, know when to turn words into butterflies and let them flit away, their powder wings leaving nothing but dust on our clothes, to brush off without a second thought.
Words are words, and I've lived most of my life letting them rule my heart, but words are just words or wishes or dreams, that fluff up and blow away on the wind, leaving paper cuts behind.
When will we all learn that words are just strings of letters with emotion attached to them. Just words, but they sting so much, even with no emotion attached to them, even with on the page. Words are just words, but they are more precise, more deadly than any phsycial weapon we can make.
All I have is words, I am in the word profession, a word assassin. And sometimes I slay without wanting or trying. And then there is nothing left but my feelings.
Words are hated and flung like knives, or loved and hung like ornaments, but the same words can heal or hurt. How do we know without more words, a duel of words or a dialogue. When will we master words so they never hurt us, know when to turn words into butterflies and let them flit away, their powder wings leaving nothing but dust on our clothes, to brush off without a second thought.
Words are words, and I've lived most of my life letting them rule my heart, but words are just words or wishes or dreams, that fluff up and blow away on the wind, leaving paper cuts behind.