Few things ca cut you without a blade or sharp edge,

Like paper or grass

-Well maybe not grass, since they are called blades of-

But the things that cut the deepest,

Making blood flow I lazy rivers out of the body,

Deeper than any razor or sheet of notebook paper

Is words.

Words;

So simple a thing, comprised of letters

Put together arbitrarily,

By someone whose name you will never remember.

Either a vibration in the air,

Or a mark on that dangerous paper, graphite or ink,

But that is all they are,

So how can they, words, cut and shred so many?

With meaning

Meaning we so cruelly decide,

Taking what that nameless Greek or Latinain guy

Originally said and throwing out their words.

To give words new words to describe,

Meanings to hurt and ridicule,

As they spread like a virus.

Passed one person to the next until everyone is infected,

Where there is no cure for the hate,

The bigotry the hostility, the animosity;

Which has sent too many below,

Too many innocents,

Too many of our youth.

All because they never learned that oh so valuable lesson at home,

Which my momma taught me as she had learned from her momma,

“If you can't say anything nice, say nothing at all.”

And if they dud, the words could go back to what it was meant to mean,

Where gay meant happy,

Fag was used only by British smokers,

Queer was no longer a slur but a statement,

And hey we may just care about the name of the Greek or Latianian guy.

Gun don't kill,

People do,

With words blades and bullets.