A rhyme and a poem
A rhyme by yours truly
Vent it gent.
“Careful” by yours truly
“Be careful what you say,”
My Dad said just before death.
Can words be weapons?
The police seemed to think so
And punished me physically for it
Without remorse and with impunity.
My word weapons (supposedly)
And their real weapons.
Their weapons hurt me,
Maybe permanently.
Their sticks and stones
Hurt my bones.
And their words were mainly stupid and mean.
My words should not
Have hurt anyone,
Maybe have annoyed a few.