My mouth speaks words of harm and does not cease.
The tongue scorns reason--tears at troubled hearts.
It forms its sounds and shatters restful peace,
And as it does my own soul breaks apart.
I cannot kill the words once they are spoken.
Once gone, I cannot pull them back again.
I may assuage the feelings that are broken,
And may attempt a tribute with my pen,
But even ink, though wiser than the tongue,
Cannot restore the wounds my words inflict.
The sign remains where foolish sounds have stung--
The sounds my ink attempts to contradict.
Forgive, and grant the power I now seek
To stop the foolish words before I speak.
postscript
I say so much more of what I mean, and in a much better way, in writing. The tongue is a nasty, sharp instrument. Proverbs 12:18