Words – they can tumble o’er the breaker of people’s minds

shattering walls succored by habit, time.

They can smash to bits thoughts of hatred conceived,

illuminate life as we long it to be.


Yet, words, these tools of men power’d strong,

can finish the goodness in man, one and all,

if they prey on the hell inside each of our souls,

if they bolster the thoughts we conceived long ago.


But, words, these tools of magic and pain,

can be used when by them no change seems yet gained.

When the words seem foul stopped –

and the walls will not crumble,

and the pow’rfuls’ souls will not yield to the clear bell

of change,

of activism,

of shifts in the world.


For the speaker doth gain

by the speaking, a victory.

If the words are true,

let them pummel the walls,

though they strongly won’t bend,

mayhap they’ll yet fall.


– written May 2013


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