Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Day 21, Sonnet 21

Some souls bear hatred marked upon their flesh

As though their skin alone did reason give

For tyrants’ words to painfully enmesh

Their days with doubt that they have lives to live.

‘Tis easy with a blinded eye to turn

And say that lack of force means lack of hate

For words alone, they say, inflict not burns

But only bruise and then soon dissipate.

But words can deeply wound where knives do not,

As flesh can heal and later bear no trace

For deadly arms are from perceptions wrought

Which quickly do humanity efface.

Be wary when they say that peace abounds

For hatred's even here, upon these grounds.

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