THE WORDS THE SWORD
The same word you want to use
Me to abuse…You to amuse
When you look at a postcard by the sea
It ain’t got nothing to do with me
That is humour in the abstract
On me it has no real impact
But when you paint me with a word
That as a ‘weapon’ has always been heard
That you still often use as such
There is only one emotion you touch
The word is enveloped in negativity
The sound waves of which are drowning me
You may not mean the contempt I hear
When what you have said reaches my ear
But the context, the tone, is always the same
The word is always used to defame
The visual and verbal don’t make a connection
The word does not translate as affection
Patronising condescension rings loud in my ear
The majority making their superiority eminently clear
It is they who use the word to berate and cut me down
So they must know to use it will only make me frown
It will always be a weapon that the majority use upon me
A big stick to beat me with carved from the ‘ginger’ tree
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