Once again your word hit hard.
Once again lodged in my heart
your words hurt more and more again
as what I lost has been my friend.

words were shot straight at my heart
and pierced it like a silver dart.
Too bad there’s no way to protect
or hide us from a simple fact…

The words hit hard, some may not bear,
they’re weapon made from heart’s own flare.
It may just be a tiny wound, or it may be a scar,
but no cut has burned so much
as words hurt me so far.

But not all words can pierce a heart,
not all can make us torn apart.
As we grow strong we learn to dodge,
the hurtful words that are so full of grudge.

Some words are quiet, sweet as fruit,
while other are just meant to shoot.
Said by saints or by a brute,
the words are always absolute.

Words can be like feathers tender,
or a weapon of offender.
Whether soft, or made of stone,
words are bullets of their own.