Poetry

Foul Be Our Language (#759)

Spin a web; Spin a web, what a web we weave,
In such words, we do fool-heartily believe,
Cast a stone, cast but a word,
The abuse of our language is but absurd!
We speak the words we need not say,
Just to puncture, harm and even slay,
A massacre of language we pass to our young,
Shouldn’t we undo what’s already sprung?
Command of our language an honor no longer,
Subject to our language it grows only stronger,
To wash our mouths with soap,
More like to wash our souls with hope,
Or be it the death of literature and language.

Any Thoughts?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.