Saturday, September 3, 2011

Words as Weapons

I seem to struggle so mightily
To be the best that I can be,
With those who bring out the old me.
I can no longer feel free.

It's not that I don't still love them
I wish this was something they could see.
But when they taunt or laugh at my disgraces,
I have a tendency to get in their faces.

It's simply that I am scared
Of how easily I slide back,
And instead of being compassionate,
I am so tempted to attack.

These words of mine can be like swords,
Cutting deeper than any knife.
I have to guard them carefully,
Or through hearts and souls they slice.

The Holy Spirit used to take my tongue,
As I often repeated my prayer,
For the Holy Spirit to take my tongue,
And soften the words that I share.

This door's spring seems forever sprung.
I know that in situations with much passion,
I often find myself  and my words behaving
In a most uncharitable fashion.

I really don't like this departure
From the new person I'd become.
Instead of attracting people,
Away from me they run.

I then spend so much time and energy
In guilt and in making amends
That my desire to make things better
Becomes a burden to my friends.