Discretion
Our lack of discretion when speaking,
Oft times become our failing.
When with words we mortally wound,
Or leave one's psyche ailing.
Often, without intent, on anothers feelings,
Without thought we do trample.
And any after the fact apology,
Is never, to the hurt, considered ample.
Perhaps in jest, we've chosen just to tease,
Or without thinking, too quickly spoken.
Later, wishing, from belated sorrow,
That we could fix the heart we've broken.
But how can we know one's mood,
Or if in fact they might feel abused.
And because our ego's are fragile,
We've unwittingly hurt with words we've used.
So let us pause if we can't be certain,
Just what their heart is feeling.
Considering that things we might say,
May cause another to start reeling.
For many is the time an achy heart,
Is devastated while vulnerable and bare,
Because not thinking someone spoke aloof,
Or worse yet, that person refused to care.
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