Poetry With A Mission

...a thought provoking poetical exercise.


Sticks And Stones

When I was a child at school, ‘twas often said defensively
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”
Well, sadly so, such isn’t true, and those children knew this too,
For words can certainly hurt and injure, and often do.

Sometimes words can deeply scar, and resound throughout the years,
Somewhat like a chiming bell reverberating in one’s ears.
It’s bad enough when older, should such words our ears insult,
But when we’re little children it’s a serious assault.

Any words that pass our lips that hurt, or happiness drain,
We can’t retract — even if we’re sorry — hence, bruising may remain.
For though we’re sorry, our words may still haunt them, gnaw away,
Which is why we shouldn’t state what love wouldn’t, and what doesn’t pay.

What we say may well reveal flaws within our heart and mind,
An unpleasant side to us -- that one day, someone may find.
And we could lose a friendship that we do not want to lose,
Hence why we should be careful regarding those words we choose.

Let us not underestimate the power of words we use,
And far more judiciously, and lovingly, our words choose.
Lest we — the gift of speech, and the joy of language — abuse,
And the ability to speak, or state our mind, somehow lose.

Remember: They’re not just words, but rather, bullets or bouquets,
That just bring another down, or that love and care conveys.
They’ll either fire someone up, or melt their heart, gain you a friend,
Bring about a sorry rift, or a sorry rift will mend.

Yes, words destroy marriages, breakup friendships, create wars,
Or they act like healing balm, thus thereby opening doors.
They reach, teach, bring about change, are a blessing or a curse,
For the way in which they’re used, either improves or makes things worse.

By Lance Landall

They Who Take No Prisoners

There’re those who when you’ve let them down, or somehow clashed over the help they once gave, who won’t help you out again,
Yes, those who take no prisoners, nor who bury the past — and they, the reason why I’ve taken to the pen.
For such people only add to another’s mistake, and thus humanity’s problems — their heart being unwell —
And thus they just as flawed as those they treat so, having not got off that tired, “This is what they did,” carousel.

Yes, though you need their help again, it’s a big fat, “No!” — they effectively grudge holders, who such don’t forget,
Their forgiveness, (if any is given), far more dubious than genuine, their concrete “No!” sealed and set.
And this, despite you having learnt from your past mistake, but no, no second chances, the gate shut and padlocked,
And where they indiscriminately choose to tattle, both you and your past mistake are inevitably knocked.

Well, who are the bigger fools here, but they who act so harshly, and to be honest, very immaturely,
For such is hardly the response of a sound and loving heart, and what if the tables were turned? — now let me see —
Yes, they probably viewing things rather differently, and were they treated the same, oh dear, how they’d shout,
And why in regards to their inhumane take no prisoners stance, they should very quickly do a turnabout.

At the end of the day, we all make mistakes, and sometimes the same one again, which is why folk should be fair,
For life’s a learning curve, and many dogged by things that don’t help, some erring due to fear and anxiety.
And let’s remember too, that it’s those second or third chances that see many people changing direction,
For nothing works better than a loving kindness that bears long, and why on such, there should be more reflection.

By Lance Landall