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Sticks And Stones
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Sticks And Stones

Poem By Rachel L. Z.

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words, your words can kill me
You sit up tall in your steel throne
While assuming your servant, I'll be

I clean and compliment all day long
But you must do one better
You say that all I do is wrong
Knock me down like a feather

You beat me with your steel-tongued whip
Smiling as I scream and cry
Then pick me up, wipe the blood off my lip
With gentle hands and lies

I cannot leave, you know that well
I know how it feels to be sad
But no, Your Majesty, of course I can tell
Your life is the one that's bad

I can't imagine the hard times
That you have been forced through
What's that, every time the noon bells chime
You'll have chores for me to do?

Now, I'm not sure I can take much more
I think it's time that I go
The next time you walk through that door
Where your servant is, you'll never know.

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