Those Slithered Words












Out flew those crafty words,

as a bee searching its sweet drink.

And it seemed to make no return,

unless fostered some nominal pangs.


It slithered away as a snake,

intending to maim, sting and devastate.

The soul of a tranquil man,

with unending agony and ache.


So beware before you enounce,

for you reap for the words once uttered.

Even a hundred years after,

its blemish would be left unfaded.


13 thoughts on “Those Slithered Words

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