If life was a battle
And your words were the weapon,
They would be just the thing to take me down,
I would be the fallen warrior
Too weak to carry on.
Wars would be won with cruelty
By you.
The wars would be lost with weakness
By me.
But, life is a battle,
Is it not?
The cunning survive,
Controlling the warriors.
The weak fall
And become further unseen
To the world.
Why are some warriors so strong
In this battle that is life?
These strong warriors fight the battle every day,
Their body covered in wounds
Blow by blow,
They continue yet fighting strong.
Yet, I am weak,
Wounded by silly words.
They are all that it takes
To give me the fatal blow.
I wish that I was strong,
That I could stand up to the owners
Of hurtful words
And disarm them.
I wish that I could be strong,
Like the fighters in the battle that is life
Who stand tall,
Long after the fight has begun.
