Written by: Tom Wright

Some words are conveyed
With the sweetness of honey
Fresh from the comb;

But on occasion,
That same vessel launches dialog
Toting the sting of African Bees,
At swarm time;

These unconstrained words
Are dispatched to slay,
Or bruise the spirit of another;

For what man's heart conjures up,
His tongue, seizing the instant,
Will usually deliver;