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Click hereHow clever you imagine yourself
with your cynical words and your witty remarks
you play with words, each a poison filled dart
that you aim carefully where it will injure most.
Now I am another, equally gifted in tongue
that care I choose to carry on so--
I would render you small, weak and pale--
and down on your knees, you would tearfully go.
So here I stand, in my quiet regard
as you laughingly mock my unwilling prose--
and I smile cooly back at you, with narrowed eyes--
contemplating words with a heavier blow.
Gather your words, and know this to be true--
that though I am silent, I'm more bitter than you
Engage in your biting, snide commentary
but careful, my darling--don't aim it at me.