HP (08-07-1975 / Kansas)

Kicking Stones

the small boy walked down the road

smug and sad carrying a heavy load

words were thrown his way

hurtful things they all did say

he mumbled quietly to no one around

kicking at the rocks on the ground

walking slowly with head hung low

his plans of revenge to them he'd show

how their hard cruel words had left him sad

he would show them all how they were bad

the gravel gave him answers no one else could

about the actions take he would

kicking the rocks beneath his feet

the bullies his wrath would soon meet

slowly the rocks that he kicked

would be weapons of insult that he picked

the stones beneath his soles

he picked up to exact their tolls

their houses he would shatter with stones in hand

casting his lot at homes built on sand

he stood firmly as the onslaught began

throwing stones at glass houses to unveil his plan

he threw those stones with force and might

to show those around that he would fight

he would hold his ground against their attack

and they would learn he'd fight back

weapons of words were hurled from afar

jab...parry...reposte...he would spar

their attacks he took for many a year

experience on his side with no fear

for when his words were hurled towards them

they had no responses for their sin

he showed how their weapons could not hit their mark

how his stones were heavier and his words were stark

his voice carried thru the rift

even his whispers to their ears did lift

he said calmy thru the din

lay down your weapons i am your kin

the stones in hand lost their grip

his words their armor it did strip

i only wanted to be your friend

and if stones you must throw then let it end

for i have only kindness to show

and with those words they all did know

words of hurt will never win

against the caring sounds that come from within

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Pablo Neruda

If You Forget Me

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