How they wound.
They pass our lips so easily
And hurt so many.
We say things without thinking
That hurt others so deeply.
Those wounds follow people around
And keep us from being
All that the Lord meant us to be.
When will we realize
That words are as sharp as a sword
And cut to the deepest parts of our soul?
How can we be so unkind?
Unthinkingly saying things that harm
And stand by watching as the pain sinks in.
Pretending we know nothing about its origin.
The very people we wound
Are the ones we should stand by.
We make promises
But then find reasons
Not to keep them.
What will we do
When someday those words
Come home to roost
And we are the one writhing in pain?
Who will we turn to then
If all our friends we have alienated?
Do we really have to fall so far
And find ourselves in deep despair
Before we realize
That we are the ones we hurt
By the words we spread?
By: Ann Martin
October 3, 2000
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