As tattered night surrenders to the morning
amidst a bruised and beaten sky.
The hazy heavens weep their misty warning
of love’s intent to pass me by.
The rain, symbolic of my sorrow,
defeats today and steals tomorrow.
Unyielding dreams assault my weary mind
with visions of my deep regret.
I’d reached accord but never had I signed
my name to play, though boards were set.
I leave the game of love intact,
unstung by honor, which I lacked.
I'm stuck in muddy grooves of flaws unbroken,
made by the tracks of time’s machine.
I’m choking on the chunks of words unspoken
allowing silence to demean.
So, safe in armored isolation,
I thus defy my reclamation.
Lunging forward a stab to the heart,
vitriol hurled at an unsuspecting soul.
A sarcastic word or comment, thrown in jest,
tearing flesh, leaving a gaping hole.
I was only joking, ha ha, wasn't that fun?
he says to no one.
Why are you hurt?
They're only words you know,
letters put together as one.
Intentional or not, caustic words will burn,
stinging speech cannot be unstung.
Hurtful songs, once sang, cannot be unsung.
Playing the dangerous game of sarcasm,
is like shooting words in derision.
Vitreous feelings are shattered,
only causing hurtful division.
Sarcasm is not innocent child's play,
it bites, it leaves marks, that forever may remain.
Think before you speak there are always consequences to hurtful speech!
John Derek Hamilton November 18,2015
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