The words upon the tip of your tongue stick in your throat like stones,
You eat them until they fill your gut with tiny inward moans
Words can be recycled, chewed up and swallowed down,
Despite their taste, they leave no waste,
Unspoken words won’t cause a frown
But released into the ether, those words can’t be recalled
Their evil taste and influence into other minds has crawled
Because words are used as weapons, as much as instruments of peace.
In a bloody war of rhetoric the assaults will never cease.