Gentle is the touch,
Clear are the words
Never understood
The point of our sword.

We speak with weapons.
We listen with peace.
To deceive ourselves,
We are no better than thieves.

To see the truth,
Grasp the lie.
It's as it seems
Not as signified.

Weapons, our tools,
Used too much.
Peace, our silent sound,
Not enough.

Understanding before we speak,
The scars we could leave
Gains wisdom in our peace
In the lives that we lead.


© Anniemiles15