Malcolm James Furst
Words, words, wordsArchive for March, 2011
Dumbass or Smartass
HONestly,
When I THINK
of what I
KNEW for SURE
when I was Twenty-Three?
about the WORLD and ME?
It’s PREtty F-ING clear
that I was WROOONG!
So
bloody
wrong
about EVerything,
but I was
FEARless.
Pleas
I holler out loud,
and everybody turns to see
what’s happening
what’s wrong with me.
I smile
and thank them kindly for their words of comfort.
But their words don’t really comfort me.
I need more.
I want more than words.
Sticks and stones may break your bones,
but names will never hurt me.
or heal me.
or help me.
Please…
Please heal me.
Please help me.